


Legend of Zelda: Lantern of Shadow

by Vengeful_Authoress



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: 1st person pov, Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angst, Arbiter's Grounds, Death, Forest Temple, Ghosts, Horror, Lake Hylia, Lakebed Temple, Link in drag, Lost Woods, Love, M/M, Monsters, Sheik in drag, Spirits, gerudo desert - Freeform, literally everything that can go wrong will, time as a corrupting influence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 77,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vengeful_Authoress/pseuds/Vengeful_Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifty years ago, we lost the night. It happened mere months after the Hero Chosen by the Gods defeated Ganondorf. Now, monsters stalk the star-studded countryside, killing all that dare walk outside their locked doors. Fair-haired boys are named Link so that they will receive a piece of the hero's courage and in a vain hope that a new Hero Chosen by the Gods will arise and reclaim the night.</p><p>As the monsters grow stronger, Link joins with Sheik, the ambassador for the royal family, and together, they journey to find the lost Master Sword, only to discover that it, too, has been corrupted by the passage of time, and Hyrule is plunged into a darkness like it has never seen before. Only the Lantern of Shadow can free the sword from the darkness, but the Lantern is an object so old that its memory has been all but lost to time, only the faintest wisp of legend left to guide them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late Night Visitor

Fifty years ago, we lost the night. It happened mere months after the Hero Chosen by the Gods defeated Ganondorf, and now each time dark falls, we cower within our homes, windows shut, doors barred, candles black, and voices silent.

The rough tiles of the roof rub against the soles of my bare feet as I sit with my arms wrapped around my knees, staring across the village at the slowly reddening sky. My toes are numb with cold, and the wind burns my cheeks, but I am too busy watching night descend to care. For some reason, it fascinates me. The way the sky grows brighter just before it dims. How shadows fall across the land like a blanket laid out to dry.

I’ve never told anyone about this, though. They have enough names to call me without adding Night-Lover to the mix.

“Link!” The shout rises up through the cracks between the tiles from the room below, sharp and worried. “Where are you? It’s nearly time to close the house!”

I sigh and begin to pick my way slowly down the roof. Most of the reddish slates are still slightly icy from last night’s frost, and I can feel the cold moisture soaking through the seat of my pants. The rim of the roof juts out away from the side of the house, but it’s a simple enough matter to lie on my belly and swing my feet around until they find the window’s ledge. I give one last push with my arms to propel myself through the open space and into the warm room.

My mother is standing in the doorway of my bedroom and glaring at me when I straighten, brushing the last of the dirt and ice water from my palms. Her long, brown hair curls down her shoulders, framing her oval face. It’s said that she is the most beautiful woman in all of Ordona Province, but tonight she looks pale and drawn. There are wrinkles in her apron and mud on her trousers.

I give her a faint smile, working to keep anything that might be considered ‘sarcastic’ out of it. “Here I am, Mother.”

“What have I told you about going out onto the roof this close to sunset?” she demands, shoving a few errant hairs away from her face. I open my mouth to respond, but it seems to have been a rhetorical question, because she runs right over me. “Lock up your window and come downstairs. Tall Link is helping your father bar the door.”

I scowl at the scuffed wood floor as she leaves. Tall Link is spending the night with us. That’s just wonderful.

Ever since the Hero Chosen by the Gods had defeated the Dark Lord, parents had taken to naming every fair-haired boy Link in honor of the hero and in hope that their child would receive even a tiny portion of the first Link’s tremendous courage. In more recent years, more and more children are named Link as the world becomes more and more desperate for a hero to rise up and fight the monsters that inhabit the night. So far, none have.

There are three Links in Ordon Village, so the people decided to give us secondary, descriptive names to tell us apart in casual speech. Tall Link is, well, tall. I think there was talk of calling him Heroic Link, but someone decided that was a little bit too presumptuous.

Tall Link has shining, golden hair and bright, blue eyes that pierce you and seem to promise that you’ll always be safe so long as he’s around. He works at the farm with the oxen, so his shoulders are broad and his muscles hard, and his torso tapers down into a lean and narrow waist.

Sometimes, he stays the night, because he’s courting my sister, Ilia, and wants to protect her. I hate it when he stays, because every time I see him, something goes off inside of me. I feel so small and insignificant around him, but at the same time, I never want him to leave my sight.

I turn back to the window and take one last look across the village. The rest of the small, wooden houses are already tightly barred, though the water wheel still turns, and at the far end, the shepherd is herding the last of the oxen into their pen. I swing the thick, wooden shutters closed, locking them tight with two parallel, iron bars. The thump they make when they fall into place sounds terribly final, and my room falls into darkness but for the dim candlelight streaming in from the hallway.

With quick, quiet steps, I thread my way across the unseen floor and exit the room, shutting the door behind me. I take the waxy candle from the holder set into the wall and carry it with me as I hurry down the short flight of curving steps. My father and Tall Link have just finished wedging the heavy oak and iron bar into place across the door when I step off the stairs. My mother is rattling one of the locks on the kitchen window, making sure it’s sturdy, and my sister sits by the dimming fire. Soon, it will die out completely and leave us sitting in darkness.

Tall Link sees me as he turns around, brushing dust from his hands. “Ah, Sleepy Link. Good to see you, man.”

My face flushes both from seeing him in his sleeveless work shirt and from the sound of my descriptive name leaving his mouth. I sleep through morning chores a few times – alright, maybe more than a few – and suddenly, I’m Sleepy Link, and no one will let me forget it. They almost named me Lazy Link or Stupid Link, but those options were determined to be too demeaning. Sometimes, my mother says I should’ve been called Mouthy Link.

“Hello, Tall Link,” I mumble to my feet, and Ilia giggles. I know she sees how red my cheeks get every time I come close to Tall Link. Thankfully, though, the older boy hasn’t noticed, and she’s too kind to mention it to him.

“Blow out the candle,” my mother orders me, sweeping around the counter that separates the small kitchen from the rest of the room. The last embers of the hearth turn her face red as she sits down on the padded chair across from my sister. Tall Link joins Ilia on the battered couch, wrapping his arm around her and using his other hand to brush the curl of her brown bangs, the same color as our mother’s, from her face. I perch on the warm stones beside the fire, and my father remains by the door, listening.

I blow out the candle with a quick puff of air at the same time as the last glow fades from the embers. The house is plunged into a vast, complete darkness. I sink into it as I would sink into my bed, tension dripping away from my limbs. We will wait here for a few hours, not speaking, barely moving, and if all seems quiet outside, we will retire to our beds.

After light, sound is the quickest way to draw the attention of the monsters.

Only a few minutes later, my mouth aches to open and spew forth some sort of comment, some quick, flighty words to break through the barrier of silence. I clamp my lips shut and then wrap one hand around my face. Eventually, I fall into a sort of trance, statue-like, listening to the sound of my family’s breathing.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing scream breaks the spell. The cry lashes through the air, spiraling on the winter wind as it is carried throughout the entire village. I hear my father curse, hear Tall Link leap up from the couch. His footsteps clatter across the floor, and the door swings open, letting in a gust of cold air.

“What are you doing?” my mother hisses, half-rising from her seat.

“Someone’s in trouble,” my father replies. He snatches up the wooden staff leaning beside the door and lunges out into the open night. Tall Link is right behind him, hammer in hand.

I stand up, uncertain of what I should do. I take three halting steps towards the door and then begin to move a little faster. “Link, stop,” my mother orders harshly.

I reach the exit of our house and pause just before the threshold. The village outside is black as pitch and still like potted soil. I gather myself, pulling air deep into my lungs. My foot lifts and prepares to slide across the divider between safety and the unknown, my heart hammering in my chest.

A silhouette appears before me out of nowhere. I can make out its bumpy outline from the red glow coming out of its eye sockets. It seems to have horns curling up from its head, and a low growl rumbles through the empty space between us.

Every line in my body freezes, and I forget how to breathe. The beating of my heart overpowers everything, my senses, my thoughts, my body. I need to…I need to…What do I need to do?

A scream rips through the house. It slashes through the strings holding my muscles taunt. I nearly collapse from the sudden release of tension, but instead I stumble a step towards the door and seize the door, slamming it shut in the monster’s face.

A warm, orange light fills the room, and I spin around, eyes wide, chest shuddering, and limbs like jellied Chuchus. My mother holds a candle aloft, and the tremble in her hand makes shadows dance across the walls. Ilia has pressed herself into the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Something crashes and bangs against the door, and the wooden panel shakes within its frame. I leap back, nearly stumbling in my haste to put distance between myself and that…that thing on the other side of the door.

“What do we do?” I squeak. I scurry across the room and skirt around the low table to stand beside the dead fire.

My mother shushes me vehemently, her face a mask of poorly concealed panic illuminated by candlelight.

“Shouldn’t you put out the candle?” my sister asks in a quaking voice. “Maybe it will lose interest and go away.”

My mother looks down at the tiny flame, torn between the comfort the light brings and the possible safety the darkness might give us. A sharp crack interrupts her deliberation, and our heads snap around to stare at the door in unison. My mother lifts the candle a little higher, and its light falls on a long splinter running down the center of the wood.

I feel sick. Violently, physically sick. Viciously so. My guts are twisted in knots secured by serrated knives. Some of the twisty, ropey bits are trying to worm their way up my throat and out my mouth. I clamp my teeth shut and close my eyes as I fall to the empty side of the couch. I tuck my feet under me and bury my head beneath my arms. The pounding continues, punctuated occasionally by loud cracks.

Thought has fled my mind, place and time close on its heels. The darkness on the back of my eyelids swirls ceaselessly, and two, glowing red orbs have been burned into my mind’s-eye. They mock me, threatening death.

Suddenly, what feels like months later, the pounding stops, the new silence interrupted by a quick series of thuds and a shout. “Ran?” my mother calls my father’s name, and I open my eyes just in time to see her rush across the room, her candle trailing flame, and the door opens the moment before she reaches it. My father stands, panting, in the frame, staff raised defensively. Tall Link waits just behind him with a dark, limp form draped over his shoulder.

My father pushes into the house and waves Tall Link in. the blonde man staggers under the weight of his burden, a young, unconscious man. As soon as he’s through, my father kicks the door shut but doesn’t stop gripping his staff in his hands. The round knob at the top is coated in a strange, black ichor.

“Put him on the couch,” my father orders, gesturing across the room. With his free arm, he helps Tall Link hold up the limp form, and together, they stagger across the floor. I hop up, head still swirling a little bit, and scurry out of the way.

The light from the candle falls on the limp man’s face. He seems to be about the same age as Tall Link, a few years older than me. His skin is a dark, nut-brown color, in stark contrast to the golden blonde hair falling out from beneath the white cloth wrapped round his head. He wears a skintight, black and blue garb, a strange, red, eye-like symbol sewn into its front. A long braid trails down his back, the lower half tied up in the same kind of cloth that’s wrapped around his head. There’s a white shawl looped around his neck, pulled up over his nose.

I stare as they gently lower him to the couch. He is lean from his shoulders down to his ankles, and every line of his body is taunt with muscle. His chest rises and falls slowly, and I get a closer look at the symbol on the front of his suit. A long tear drips down from the outline of the eye, and three triangles come off the top like eyelashes.

“Who is he?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off the delicate lines of his face. His long lashes. The thin ridge of his nose. I wonder what his lips look like under his shawl, and my face heats up.

“I think he’s part of an embassy from the royal family,” my father replies. “He was at the edge of town with two royal guards, swamped by Stalfos.”

“Where are the guards?” Ilia asks. She moves to stand beside Tall Link, and he wraps his large arm around her shoulders. She leans up against his chest.

My father shakes his head. “Dead when we got there. This one,” he nods down at the prone man, “was holding three of them off on his own. He took out two of them – two! – but the third landed a blow on his head, and he went down just as we got there.”

“How did you get away from the last one?” Ilia wonders breathlessly, staring up at Tall Link with awe in her big, green eyes.

“I battered at it with my staff while Tall Link pulled him up.” My father flops down into one of the chairs, rubbing a hand through his black hair. He still hasn’t let go of his staff.

“You engaged with a Stalfos?” my mother gasps, practically clutching her heart. Legend says that the Stalfos are the reanimated bones of travelers trapped in the Lost Woods from ancient times. They’re fearsome beasts, nearly tireless, and one of the deadliest monsters found in the night.

“I’m fine,” my father promises. “We’re both fine.”

My mother goes to him and lays her hand on his arm. He pats it gently, smiling up at her tiredly.

The man on the couch groans and shifts, and the five of us instantly pull ourselves to attention. I lean my hands against the arm rest the couch near his feet, and for some reason, my stomach jumps nervously.

The man’s eyes flutter open, and I inhale slightly. His irises are a smoldering red, halfway between maroon and blood. They seem to struggle to focus, and then they lock onto my face. It’s as if my knees turn to water suddenly, and the only thing that keeps me standing is my grip on the couch arm.

“Where am I?” he murmurs in a smoky voice.

My father leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “You’re in Ordon Village. This is my home.”

The man slowly levers himself upright, wincing as he turns his head to look around. “Where are Captain Lu-on and Lieutenant Russo?”

“I’m sorry.” My father drops his gaze to the ground. “They didn’t make it.”

“Shit,” the man sighs. “They were good men.”

“What were you doing outside at night?” Tall Link asks. He moves forward a step, Ilia still on his arm. The man does a nearly imperceptible double take when he sees Tall Link, and I droop slightly with disappointment. Of course Tall Link would take all his attention.

“We thought we could make it.” He hesitates, sighing. “ _I_ thought we could make it. I was wrong.”

He sits up fully, leaning back against the side of the couch, and reaches up to pull his shawl down. His mouth is as delicate as the rest of his face, and he has high, pronounced cheekbones. His expression is downcast, and his eyes look guilty.

“You’re a royal ambassador, aren’t you?” my father asks.

The man nods. “The king sent me on a mission to the desert to meet with the new Gerudo tribe that’s been established.”

“I thought that the cannon at Lake Hylia was the only way into the desert.” The words are out of my mouth before I know it, and I think I turn embarrassingly red when the man looks up at me. I quickly glance away from his burning eyes.

“Past this village and the forest, there’s an almost unknown pass through the mountain range. It comes out closer to the settlement than the cannon does.”

I can’t believe he just talked to me. I can’t believe that smoky voice was directed in my direction. Every part of my face is on fire, from the tip of my chin to the points of my ears.

“Oh,” I mumble and reclaim my eyes from his.

“What’s your name?” Ilia asks, breaking the awkward silence that has fallen. Or maybe it’s just awkward to me.

He turns his molten gaze to her. “My name is Sheik.”


	2. Runaway Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go out to Firwork615 for offering to be my beta!

Chapter Two: The Runaway

Part One

My mother hands the man named Sheik a cup of water, and he nods gratefully at her as he takes it. His long fingers poke out from black, cut-off gloves, and before he wraps them around the ceramic cup, I catch a glimmer of a tremble.

“I haven’t thanked you for saving my life yet,” he says to my father and glances up at Tall Link. I see him look the other man over, take in his blonde hair, his muscles, the way his arm is wrapped around Ilia. He has the kind of eyes that catch every detail, and I want him to look at me in that way. I shift away from the couch and move towards the hearth, stepping into the shadows. “And you too.”

“I’m just glad we got there in time,” my father says. “My name is Ran, and this is my wife, Jules, and my daughter, Ilia.” Since I’m not in his line of sight, my father has forgotten about me.

“And I’m Link,” Tall Link adds.

Sheik visibly jumps at the sound of the name, and he looks the blonde man over again. I should introduce myself. If I step forward and tell him my name’s Link, too, maybe he’ll look at me in that way as well. “Your name is Link?” Sheik asks slowly. He leans forward to set the cup down on the low table.

He stands up slowly, one hand held out in front of him for balance, and my father moves forward to help him. Sheik waves him off, quickly finding his balance again. His hand goes to the back of his head, and he winces as his fingers prod the lump there, the tips coming away bloody. Using the edges of the couch, he makes his way closer to Tall Link. Sheik doesn’t even have to tilt his head up to look into Tall Link’s face.

“Yeah,” Tall Link says, looking a little awkward under the weight of Sheik’s scrutiny. After a stretched-out moment, he points at me. “His name is Link, too.”

A puzzled expression drops over Sheik’s face as he turns to look at me, his fine eyebrows dropping and a brilliantly white tooth coming out to bite his lip. His red eyes latch onto me like a blaze of fire, and I want to shrink fully into the shadows.

“He’s also called Link?” Sheik asks carefully.

“It’s a tradition in outlying villages,” my father explains. “Most blonde-haired boys are named Link.”

“How many are there?” Sheik wonders. He returns his stare to Tall Link, and I slump slightly as if his red eyes had been all that were holding me up.

“Three,” my mother replies. “The other one is Artistic Link. This is Tall Link,” she nods at the broad-shouldered man, “and my son, Sleepy Link.” She sounds almost embarrassed when she says my name, and I lower my gaze to the floor. They would rather Tall Link be their son than me.

“I need to get back to Hyrule Castle,” Sheik says suddenly, rubbing his hands together and cracking all his knuckles. “I can’t press on to the desert by myself, and the king needs to know that my mission has failed. I must also tell the soldiers’ families what has happened.” He tugs at the hem of his tight shirt, straightening it. “Tall Link,” he nods politely in the other man’s direction, “would you accompany me?”

Tall Link’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, and he points a finger at his chest. “Me?” he stutters.

“Yes.” Sheik checks the wound on the back of his head again and looks pleased when his fingers come away clean. “You’ve already proven yourself handy in a fight, and I sense something interesting in your aura. I want you to come with me and meet Princess Zelda.”

“What do you mean you sense something in his aura?” Ilia asks, clinging protectively to Tall Link’s arm. Her green eyes shine with worry, and I notice absently that she needs a haircut. Her sweeping, brown bangs are starting to fall across her eyes.

“Every living thing has a different colored aura around them, representing their life force.” Sheik lifts up his hands as if to show us what he’s talking about, but I don’t see anything other than his graceful fingers. “The ancient Sheikahs had a technique that allowed them to read other people’s auras, and I learned to do the same from a few old texts I found.”

“So what do you see in my…aura?” Tall Link asks slowly, sounding like he doesn’t quite believe the stranger.

“I’m not sure exactly.” Sheik takes a step closer to Tall Link, one hand at his slim hip. “There’s a strange shimmer to it. I’ve never seen anything like it. I think perhaps Princess Zelda will be able to look into it a little deeper.”

My heart drops violently, hurtling towards my knees. Sheik thinks Tall Link is the Hero Chosen by the Gods. The blood drains out of me, disappointment filling its place. None of us ever mention it, but each Link secretly hopes that he will be the next reincarnation of the Hero. At least, I think the other Links hold that hope. Maybe it’s just me. My face heats up. Din, that would be embarrassing.

“I have work,” Tall Link protests. “I can’t just leave.” Ilia’s hand tightens around him in agreement.

“I can cover for you,” my father says. There’s a lift to his voice that I’ve never heard before. He’s picked up on the same epiphany as me, and it’s given him hope.

“Won’t it be dangerous?” Ilia asks, voice shaking.

Tall Link leans over and kisses her on the forehead, caressing the side of her face with his hand. “We’ll only travel during the day. There are plenty of places of succor between here and Castle Town.”

“I’ll miss you,” she sighs, and he smiles gently.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

Sheik gives Tall Link his thanks, a relieved expression falling over his face though he hides quickly beneath a veneer of calm certitude. “We’ll leave right at dawn. Do you have horses we can borrow?” he asks my father.

“There are a couple of extra horses down at the stable you can borrow,” my father responds. He sits back down in his chair, finally letting go of his staff. It clatters against the floor, leaving droplets of black monster blood on the wood floor. It shines in the firelight like spilled oil.

My mother lifts the candle a little higher and steps forward. “You should take one more person. Three is a safer number than two.”

For some reason, my foot takes a step forward, and I peel myself out of the shadows. I cautiously raise a hand halfway into the air. “I’ll go.” The words are out of my mouth before I know it. Everyone turns to stare at me, and I almost crumple back into invisibility.

“No. Link. No,” my mother snaps firmly, narrowing her eyes at me. “You can barely ride a horse.”

“But–” I begin to protest, but she cuts me off with a finger pointed at the stairs.

“Go upstairs, Link,” she orders, and my mouth drops open in astonishment. Is she really sending me to my room like a young child? My cheeks start to burn. Every person in the room refuses to look at me, choosing instead to stare awkwardly at the ground. My mother’s eyes harden, and she shakes her finger at the stairs.

There’s nothing I can do. I let my head hang and turn around slowly, dragging my feet as I leave the room. I keep hoping someone will call me back and take my burning shame away. No one does, though, and my foot reaches the first step. I take them one at a time, sliding my hand along the railing.

I enter my dark room and pat the small desk beside the door frame until my hand falls on a cold candle and a small flint and steel. I strike the two pieces together until a spark flies and the wick on the candle catches. I pick the light up by its iron holder, sighing, and move towards my bed, intending to lie down and hide beneath the blankets, but the orange glow catches in the mirror over my washbasin, grabbing my attention.

I drift over and set the candle down, staring at my reflection. I wonder what Sheik sees when he looks at me, if he compares me to Tall Link. I certainly always compare myself to him. My hair isn’t golden and gleaming, like his. Mine’s more of a dirty blonde, nearly brown, and hangs in shaggy locks over my forehead. Tall Link’s eyes shimmer when the light hits them, but my irises are a dark and murky blue. I have a hoop through my earlobe that I’d gotten two years ago, and my mother had grounded me instantly and threatened to rip it out herself. My father had convinced her to let me keep it.

“Let him keep it,” he’d said. “It’s one of the few things he’s got going for him.”

He thought I hadn’t been in hearing range.

Tall Link has strong features, perfectly formed and symmetrical. All I have is a deep tan from hanging out on rooftops all day.

I turn away from the mirror, picking the candle up and carrying it with me to the bed. There’s a small table next to the headboard, and I put the candle there as I sit down, the mattress giving beneath me. I fold my legs up and stare forlornly at my hands draped across my lap.

I don’t want to stay in Ordon Village anymore. I don’t think I want to be the same old Sleepy Link, hiding on rooftops and avoiding chores down at the oxen farm. I would follow Sheik to the ends of the world, I realize. I want him to look at me in the same way he looks at Tall Link, as if he believes I’m something special.

I come to a decision that makes my stomach churn nervously. They’re leaving right at dawn, so I’ll sneak out a half an hour later and tail them until we’re too far away for them to send me back. I’ll get a horse from the stables as well and try to steal some supplies, too. Despite what everyone thinks, I’m good at riding. I’m really good. I just don’t show it off when anyone’s around. They already think I’m useless, and I feel no need to change their minds.

I blow the candle out and lie down, lacing my fingers behind my head, but I never manage to fall asleep. Instead, I stare at the invisible ceiling and jiggle my foot, wondering where Sheik is spending the night. Eventually, I can’t just lie there anymore, and I roll out of bed so I can begin to prepare. It’s better to move than to remain still.

I know where everything is, even in the blackness. My knapsack is under the bed, and from my chest, I pull out a bedroll and three extra shirts. The clothes get rolled up and stuffed into the pack, and I tie the bedroll to the bottom.

I move silently into the hallway and sneak down the stairs, placing my feet carefully in all the spots I know won’t squeak. My eyes might as well have been closed for the amount of light that the shuttered windows let in. I pause at the bottom of the steps and strain my ears to catch any hint of a breath or a rustle.

I hear the wrinkle of fabric rubbing together coming from the direction of the couch, but I can’t tell who’s there. I just hope it’s not Sheik. I get the feeling I’ll never be able to sneak past him. I hold my breath as I creep forward, the layout of the room spread out before my mind’s-eye. I stick to the edges of the room, skirting a set of shelves and the cloak hooks. The breeze that comes under the door caresses my ankles.

The wood floors change to stone beneath my bare feet. I rifle though the cabinets as silently as I can, coming away with three apples, a wedge of cheese, and a loaf of bread wrapped in a cloth. There’s also an empty bottle hidden away at the back of a shelf.

I gather the stolen goods in my arms and make my way back across the living room, holding my breath once again. Halfway across the floor, the person on the couch shifts and grunts, murmuring under their breath.

I freeze instantly, heart leaping up into my throat and choking me. I wait for several long heartbeats, for the sound of a blurry ‘Who’s there?’, or feet hitting the floor, the strike of a flint. I imagine Sheik’s eyes suddenly glowing before me like the monsters’ out in the night, and I have to lock my muscles in place to keep from bolting towards the stairs.

The sleeper settles back down, and relief flows through my body. My lungs are burning by the time I make it to the steps, but I keep the sound of my breath trapped inside me until I’m back in my room and the door is shut. Then all the air comes out in a rush, and bright, colored spots dance before my eyes.

I tuck the food into my pack as soon as I’ve regained my breath. The flint, steel, and candle go into one of the small outer pockets, and then I return to my chest, feeling around inside until I find my water skin and a sheathed knife that my father gave me for my eleventh birthday, back before I was Sleepy Link. The knife is simple, but well-crafted, made form tempered iron with a comfortable, leather grip. Hylian runes are etched into the guard, reading ‘COURAGE’. It’s clichéd, I know, but sometimes I convince myself that holding it does make me feel better.

I store the knife at the very top of the pack, nestled in on top of everything else. I fall back to my bed. There’s nothing left to do but wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-part chapter since it ended up being nearly 6000 words. Look for the second half in about a week to a week and a half!


	3. Runaway Part Two

Chapter Two: Runaway

Part Two

Somehow, I doze off, my dreams filled with red eyes and the strange, dripping tear symbol on Sheik’s clothing. I awake when I hear the rest of them moving around in the room below. A rectangular slice of my floor is illuminated by the morning light streaming under the shutters on the window.

I heave myself out of bed, still fully clothed from the day before, and cross the floor, opening my room to the sunrise. The sun is still newly born, barely budging out of over the edges of the trees, but it stains the white walls of the houses a bloody red.

“Link,” my mother calls up the stairs. “Come say goodbye.”

I pretend to be pouting and don’t reply.

I catch the breeze of her sigh, and then a minute later, I hear the door creak open. I watch as the travelers emerge from the house, searching warily for any monsters brave enough to challenge the first breath of morning.

Sheik is wearing his same outfit, his scarf pulled up over my nose. My father seems to have given Tall Link one of his white, long-sleeved travelling shirts, the hem of which is tucked into his wide, green belt. There’s a sword strapped across his back, nearly hidden by his bulging knapsack. _Where in Din’s name did he get a sword?_ I wonder. Jealousy flashes down my spine, making me sweat. Was the blade supposed to be meant for me?

The two travelers and my family move deeper into Ordon Village, leaving me alone in the house. Now’s my time to get away, before they come back and try to talk to me. When my parents find I’m gone, they’ll think I’ve gone off some place to mope. They won’t care enough to wonder if I’ve run off.

I grab my thick travelling cloak from where it lies in a pile on a chair in the corner of the room, securing it beneath the flaps on the top of my knapsack. I take a deep breath. It’s time to go. I’m amazed that my legs aren’t jellied and that my heart isn’t thundering like a herd of stampeding oxen.

I toss my knapsack out the window, and it lands on the springy ground below with a low thump. Then I follow it, sliding over the sill on my stomach. There’s a ceramic, half-pipe attached to the edge of the roof that runs down the side of the house so that rain water can drain away from the tiles. I wrap my fingers around the curve of the pipe and, bracing my feet on the wall, shimmy down to the ground. I jump the last few feet, my boots hitting the snow silently.

I snatch up my knapsack, slinging it over my shoulder, and set off into the still slumbering village. My family doesn’t live in the town proper; our house is built up a short hill, nearly nestled completely inside the forest. There’s a small path that winds down the hill, avoiding the gently swaying trees, and I walk down it quickly, eyes peeled for any sign of movement coming up the other end.

I step out into the village proper. A wide, shallow creek runs through the center of the town. Usually, it makes the great waterwheel attached to the mayor’s house spin slowly, but right now, there’s a film of ice across the water’s surface, and so the wheel sits still. The lake that the stream feeds into is hidden from sight by a swelling hill.

There are only a few clusters of houses in Ordon Village. We’ve only grown slightly since the day of the Hero, and most of the buildings are the originals, though you don’t realize their age when you look at them. Their paint is fresh, practically glistening in the slowly rising sun, and the wooden beams are polished to a sheen.

I make my way around the edge of the village, keeping to the shadows cast by the houses. I make sure my head is low, beneath the level of the windows, my soft leather boots silent in the snow. When I reach the open space between the last building and the little wooden bridge over the creek, I pause, and I watch, and I listen.

The bugs are beginning to chirp. Done hiding from the monsters of the night, they only have a short amount of time to sing before the day sends them to their beds. Their song is the only sound, though. The rest of the animals of Ordon Village are safe within their homes or their pens.

I’m about to step out into the open when I hear the sound of voices drifting on the shifting breeze, and I press myself back against the wall, as deep into the shadows as I can get, peeking my head out just enough to see.

Tall Link, Sheik, and my family appear around the bend that winds down to the ranch. My father leads the way with a torch held high, and the two travelers have horses trailing behind them, saddlebags thrown over their rumps. There’s a third man walking beside them, and I have to squint to make out his features through the gloom.

It’s the town blacksmith, an older man named Rusl. He’s tough and grizzled, with flat, chiseled features and a dark moustache that curls around the corners of his mouth. He wears a white band of fabric tied around his forehead, and his brown, grey-speckled hair flops down over parts of it. Village talk says he’s killed at least one of the night monsters, but Rusl won’t confirm it.

I watch them make their way up the path I just came down, talking amongst themselves in low voices. I perk my ears up, straining to hear what they’re saying, but I only catch a small snippet as they pass by my hiding place. “…safe spot not too far from here at the edge of the forest. It’s maybe just over a half day’s ride.”

I stay hidden as the five people continue through the village, waiting until I can’t hear the thud of the horses’ hooves anymore before I peel myself away from the building. I eye the way that the shadows of the bare branches dance across the snow and the patches of dead grass. Slowly, I step out into the open. I move in time with the patterns of the changing patches of darkness, ghosting across the open space until I reach the bridge.

There, I pause and check around me. I probably don’t need to be so careful. No one is awake to wonder why I’m out and about at such an early hour. The wood drums slightly beneath my feet as I cross the bridge, passing by the barren pumpkin patch and the mayor’s squat, two-story house. The big man in charge of Ordon Village doesn’t sleep much, and there’s a candle flickering in one of the upper windows, but the shadows off the waterwheel coat me, and I slip by undetected.

The path curves with the slope of the land, dipping and swelling through a patch of young oak trees. Before long, the area opens up into a large, circular clearing. A stretch of disturbed snow leads up to the tall, wooden fence that encircles the ranch. A simple cottage sits right by the gate, silent and still, and across the pasture is the sturdy oxen pen. The horse stable with a sloping roof is built right beside it.

I skirt around the ranch keeper’s house on the outside of the fence and hurry around the ranch until I come up beside the stables. I glance around, checking to make sure I’m truly alone, and then quickly scale the fence, swinging my legs over and dropping lightly to the ground. I readjust the straps of my pack as I approach the door. It slides open easily, and one of the horses looks up at me and whickers.

There are three animals inside the building, each in a separate stall. One is a lean, black stallion, the mayor’s prize horse. Sometimes, he takes the beast up to Kakariko Village to compete in the races, and he towers over me, looking like he could crush me with one hoof. The second horse is Old Lolly, a plodding, roan mare who’s given birth to most of the horses at the ranch, and the final animal is a young colt named Lightning Strike. He has a dappled gray coat that ripples with every twitch of his muscles.

I take a halter from its hook and unlock the stall, gently easing the door open, cooing as I do so. Lightning Strike stares at me with wide, black eyes but lets me approach and slip the bit between his teeth.

I lead the horse out of the stall and over to the saddle stands, my hands moving quickly as I toss the piece of simply worked leather over his back. He follows me out of the stable building, butting me with his head as we start across the empty pasture. I rub at his nose absently, praying to the Goddesses that he doesn’t decide to whicker or neigh when we pass by the cottage.

The latch on the gate is down, locking it in place, but the pieces of metal are well-oiled, and it glide open silently. I push the gate wide and step through, Lightning Strike right behind me. Then I lock it behind us.

This time, I move more quickly through the village, knowing that there’s not much time before the early risers begin to wake. Lightning Strike plods along behind me complacently, nudging my shoulder every so often. I slow down when I reach my house, glancing up at it, but the windows are dark. It seems my parents have gone back to bed.

Shaking my head, I turn away from my home and give the reins a tug to get Lightning Strike moving again. There’s a narrow dirt path to the left of my house, just past the scarecrow with a tin bucket hat, that winds into the heart of the forest and then onto Hyrule Field.

I follow it and, as the path draws nearer to the clear water spring that supposedly houses the village’s guardian spirit, several strange, lumpy shapes appear on the ground. Lightning Strike snorts with displeasure and tosses his mane, wide nostrils flaring. I coo at him comfortingly, coaxing him forward.

The brightening morning light reveals the gruesome scene that played out the night before. I freeze, almost dropping to my knees, and the contents of my stomach nearly come raging up my throat.

The snow has turned black where it hasn’t been ripped up and churned to mud. Pools of blood stand in the deep imprints carved into the snow in the shape of boots and is painted across the rocks in wide swaths.

There are four bodies lying on the ground, crumpled or splayed in awkward positions, limbs cock-eyed and bent in all the wrong ways. Two of them are the soldiers, their green and silver uniforms torn to shreds. Their chainmail shirts have been pulled wide open, and the little metal links litter the muddy snow. I step closer for a better look, some morbid sense of curiosity pulling my feet along.

The soldier nearest me lies face up, his eyes wide but sightless. His thick, black moustache lies in sharp contrast on his pale, bloodless face. His throat has been torn open. The wound gapes like a second mouth. The blood has long since stopped gushing out of him, but it still drips down his neck and pools around his head like a depraved halo. There are jagged claw marks up and down his arms, and one hand is nearly severed at the wrist.

I close my eyes to quell the rising surge of bile before moving on to the next body. This soldier is younger than the man with the moustache. In fact, he barely looks old enough to shave. Half of his soft, brown ringlets are matted with blood, and a corner of his head is caved in. Through the cracks and the ragged hole, I catch a glimpse of his grey and pink brain, which glistens slightly in the growing light. His chest looks like something ripped it open. The broken tips of his ribs poke up into the air, and the links of his shredded chainmail glint amid the folds of his intestines. The place between his lungs, where his heart should be, is empty.

The pit of my stomach is churning. I’ve never actually seen a dead body before. It’s different than I expected. It’s hard to believe that they were ever actually alive. The soldiers look like wax dolls; the quality of their skin is wrong, almost deflated. My breathing speeds up, and I brace my hand on one of the only clean patches of snow left. The cold seeps inside of me, clearing away the worst of the horror so that I can think again and keep moving.

The last two bodies belong to the monsters, and I stare down at them, absolutely transfixed. This is the first time I’ve ever actually seen one. The monsters – Stalfos, my father called them – are hulking, yellow skeletons. Thorny vines twist around its ribs and dangle down into its empty stomach cavity, and moss crawls up its spine. It has a wide skull, and its jaw protrudes with sharp teeth that would have gnashed at the air. A rust red sword lies discarded by its hand, and I note that each one of its fingers have been sharpened into claws. Nearby, I find a round buckler, also rusted red. There’s a hole punched through its skull, and the space inside is empty and dark.

I click my tongue to call Lightning Strike to me just as the rays of the sun kiss the two skeletons. Without warning, the bones burst into green flames that leap and dance in wild whorls. I stagger back, gasping, and Lightning Strike’s solid shoulder is the only thing that keeps me from falling over. It doesn’t take long for the skeletons to disintegrate into nearly nothing, leaving behind only a thin layer of ash atop the snow.

I let out a shaky breath, and step gingerly around the ash, leading Lightning Strike behind me. We continue on into the forest. I don’t ride my horse, because I don’t want to risk catching up to Sheik and the others. The path we’re following turns into a simple, wooden bridge that spans a chasm yawning in the forest floor. Long ago, an earthquake rocked the land, carving great cracks into the earth all across Hyrule.

It doesn’t’ take much coaxing to get Lightning Strike onto the bridge. All the horses have been across it many times. The drop is dizzying, seeming to swoop down into infinity. On the other side of the bridge, the trees crowd in close around the trail, casting shadows across my face. Roots tangle across the path, and I have to step carefully to avoid tripping myself up. The uneven footing doesn’t seem to bother Lightning Strike.

We walk for about two hours before the path splits. One fork leads through a lightweight, rusting gate and into a pitch-black tunnel. The other end meanders into a small clearing that will be brightly lit when the sun is done rising. Dead, hip-high grass pokes through the layer of snow and rustles with the wind, hiding the ruins of a decades old cottage. An oil vender used to live here, selling lantern fuel to travelers preparing to head into Faron Woods. Once the monsters came, he quickly fled his isolated cottage for the safety of numbers.

This is the way Sheik would have gone. This fork of the path eventually winds its way around the edge of the forest until it reaches the southern end of Hyrule Field.

“Come on, Lightning Strike,” I say quietly, leading him into the yellow grass. Small bugs hop between the blades, and the first animals are beginning to nose their way out of their burrows. I can see them at the edges of the clearing, coming up from between the roots of the trees. The dry grass grabs at my legs, threatening to trip me up.

I almost miss the ruins as I pass them by. There’s barely anything left, just a few low piles of stones marking where the edges of the building had been. The wilderness has reclaimed the inside of the house, the snow piled up in wide drifts. A small sapling stands right in the center, thin, bare branches swaying in the breeze.

Lightning Strike and I continue on, pushing past one of the gates that separates Ordona Province from the Faron Woods. We walk for a long time on the winding path, the trees shielding us from the bright sun. Shadows dapple the ground, and their dance mesmerizes me. We see no other sign of human life, but deer crash occasionally through the underbrush around us, and rabbits dart across the path in front of our steps.

 

Pretty soon, my feet begin to ache, and I have to stop, perching on a rock and pulling some of the food from my pack. Lightning Storm strays a few feet away to crop at the grass. I wonder where Sheik and the others are now. I wonder if they stopped in this same spot.

The sun climbs higher into the sky as we continue to walk. The cold drains my energy, and eventually, I swing myself up into the saddle and let Lightning Strike carry me, making sure he doesn’t go above a walk.

It’s early afternoon when we reach the edge of the woods, and I bring Lightning Strike to a stop before he steps out of the trees. I jump down from his back and loop his reins around a low tree branch. I lean up against the trunk so I can keep an eye on the clearing and the little house that sits in it.

The building isn’t even really a house. It’s more like a shack, built from stone and wood. There aren’t any windows, and the door is short and stout and crossed by iron bars. Smoke puffs out of the low chimney, its thin, waving tentacle stretching into the bright sky.

The door eases open, and Sheik steps out, stretching and taking a look around him. I admire the silhouette the sun turns him into, the fine lines, the gentle curve of his backside, the stretch of his shoulders, and my face quickly heats up. I drop my gaze almost instantly, even though there’s no one around to see my embarrassment but the horse.

After a moment, Sheik walks away, heading for the forest, though luckily he’s not coming in my direction. The woods bulge out to the left of my position, making a hump in the landscape, and that’s where Sheik seems to be going, maybe to gather firewood.

I wait for another couple of hours, clearing away some of the snow so I can sit down with my back against the trunk. I eat some more of my food, crunching through one of the apples, and track Sheik’s return from the forest. He comes back with his arms full of wood, lifting his knees high in order to clear the snow as he treks towards the shack. The door opens as he approaches, the sun winking off Tall Link’s hair.

It’s late afternoon, early evening when I finally stand back up and brush the dirt from my pants. I judge that it’s too late in the day for them to force me to go back to Ordon Village; I’ll never make it before dark falls. I untie the reins from the tree and leave the safety of the forest.

My stomach churns as I cross the snowy field, and my heart thumps so loudly that it drowns out the sound of Lightning Strike’s hooves. My head pounds with worry. I don’t want them to reject me, send me packing when morning comes. The closer I get to the shack, the more my knees wobble, and there’s a prickling in my eyes. I blink rapidly, and then, suddenly, I’m right by the door.

My fist lifts and falls against the wood three times. All noise and movement within the building ceases, and a few seconds later, the door swings open to reveal a confused looking Sheik. He stiffens when he sees me, and his eyes widen slightly. “What…?” he begins.

“Hi,” I interrupt, talking brightly to overcome my nerves. “I’m here to join the party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action is going to pick up in the next chapter! There will be blood.


	4. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, everyone!

Chapter Three 

First Blood

Sheik grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me into the shack, face dark like thunder rolling over a still plain. I stumble as I cross the threshold, nearly dragged off my feet, my eyes wide with surprise, and I hear Lightning Strike snort with amusement just before Sheik slams the door with his free hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demands, bringing his face closer to mine until our noses touch. He’s too close for my eyes to focus on, and his red irises are like two burning suns before me.

I blink, trying to regain my scattered thoughts after Sheik’s heat and his nearness sent them running. “I…I want to come with you,” I say, wincing at the hesitation in my voice.

“You’re going home,” Sheik growls, pushing me back towards the door.

My hands scrabble at the rough walls, seeking something to hold onto before the angry man can reopen the door and shove me out into the snow. “No, I can’t,” I protest, trying to fight down my rising panic. This had seemed like such a good idea this morning, but now I’m starting to have doubts. “It’ll be dark in an hour or two!”

“Then you’d better ride fast.”

“Stop,” I plead as Sheik reaches around me to grasp the doorknob. His chest presses against mine, and suddenly, all I can think about is the heat radiating through his clothing and the firm feeling of his muscles. I lose my train of thought. “Wait, stop.” I flounder, trying to shut Sheik’s presence out by slamming down walls in my mind. It works well enough to let me keep talking. “I can’t make it back in time, even if I ride fast. I could get lost or hurt. The same thing that happened to you will happen to me.”

“He’s right,” Tall Link speaks up from the other side of the room. I can’t see him past Sheik’s smoldering presence. “Sleepy Link isn’t a good rider.”

I want to burst out that that’s not true, but that won’t help me stay, so I hold my tongue and smile ashamedly instead.

Sheik stares at me for a never-ending moment before he finally growls and tosses me further into the room. I barely manage to catch myself before I trip over my own feet. Tall Link and Rusl lean up against the wall beside the low crackling hearth, a pile of firewood between them. Neither one of them will look me in the eye.

“Then you go back in the morning,” Sheik says, nearly concealed anger bordering his voice.

I take a deep breath as I turn around to face him, keeping my hands behind my back to hide the way they tremble. “I’m coming with you,” I say, trying to be as firm as possible.

“You’ll slow us down, and I don’t have time to babysit you,” Sheik replies coldly, folding his arms across his chest.

“You won’t need to babysit me,” I protest, trying to puff up my thin frame as much as possible.

Sheik cocks one of his delicate eyebrows. “Really? Because what I’ve heard about you tells me the opposite.”

“I’m not going back to the village,” I say, and I look him right in the eye. I try to harden mine into chips of ice. “If you try to send me away or leave me behind, I’ll follow you. I swear it.”

The swirling fire of his irises rages towards me across the space between us, battering up against the cold blue surface I’ve crafted myself into. The heat is all around me, but I can’t melt, not now. Bit by bit, the fire ebbs away, retreating back into the confines of Sheik’s eyes, but I keep my sigh of relief hidden inside me.

“Fine,” Sheik sighs. “You can stay. But keep out of the way.”

I resist the urge to scream thank yous at him or throw myself into his arms and hug him. I tug at the hem of my tunic to hide my still trembling hands and give him a simple nod.

Sheik turns away and proceeds to ignore me for the rest of the night.

As darkness falls, we have a simple meal of roasted hare that Rusl caught in the forest. The older man also does me the favor of leading Lightning Strike around to the small stable at the back of the shack and preparing him for the night, and I help Tall Link board up the door as the last rays of sun disappear. The building has no windows, so we don’t have to worry about those. Sheik puts out the fire and tells us the watch shifts in a low voice. He’ll go first, followed by Rusl, then Tall Link, and I’ll take the last shift before dawn.

Throughout all of this, Sheik doesn’t speak to me or even look in my direction.

A sick, leaden feeling fills my stomach as I lie down and wrap my cloak around me. Now that it’s just me, my thoughts, and the darkness, I begin to wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I don’t know a thing about wilderness survival or fighting. I could very easily get someone killed.

* * *

 

A hand shakes my shoulder, jolting me out of the sleep I’d unknowingly fallen into. My eyes jump open in time with my racing heart, but there’s only blackness around me. Confusion hits when my hand comes down on a rough plank of wood and not the yielding softness of my bed.

“Your turn,” Tall Link’s voice whispers in my ear, and the events of the previous day come crashing back. I’m in the shack. With Sheik. (Who’s mad at me). It’s my turn for watch.

I sit up as Tall Link returns to the patch of floor he’s made his bed. Sheik wants the sentry to sit right by the door and listen for anything moving outside, so I crawl across the pitch-black floor until my hand hits the wall. Two inches to the right, my fingers find the crack between it and the door so I sit back, cloak still wrapped around me.

The three hours of my watch crawl by, but I refuse to let myself drift off. I focus on identifying the sounds my ears pick up. The sifting of the wind. The scrape of branches rubbing together. Or is that actually the sound of bones rubbing together as they drag their way across the snow to the shack? Or perhaps it’s the rasp of rusty metal being drawn. We’ve been perfectly silent since night fell and kept the light out so we won’t attract any monsters, but maybe one of the horses inadvertently made a sound, and now there are dozens of monsters stalking towards us. They’ll beat on the walls with their fists. They’ll break down the door with their swords. When they get inside, they’ll–!

I clap my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes shut even though the darkness behind my lids isn’t any different than the darkness outside them. I listen to the trill of my heart, feel the way it travels through my whole body.

There are no monsters outside. There are no monsters outside.

I time the words to the beat of my heart and slow them down every time I repeat them until I’ve calmed myself down and my heartbeat has returned to normal.

The breathing of my companions surrounds me, and I find that I can tell them apart. Rusl’s comes in and out in a rasp, caught each time by a bit of mucus in his throat. Tall Link’s breathing is deep and heavy, filling the room like the quiet, comforting rumble of a drum. I can barely detect out the sound Sheik makes. There’s a faint huff each time he exhales, but that’s it.

Eventually, a red light seeps through the crack under the door. My shoulders sag with relief. Before the glow is more than three inches across the shack’s floor, Sheik stirs, and I hear the rustle of cloth as he sits up.

“So you managed to stay awake then.” His voice is suddenly right beside me, and I jump, having not heard him cross the room. The sun light illuminates the toes of his boots, and Sheik folds his legs under him to sit beside me.

“Yes,” I say, unable to believe that he’s talking to me.

“I was a little worried that wouldn’t be the case, given your name.”

I scowl at the ground. “Sometimes things stick that aren’t necessarily true.”

“How did you get it?” Sheik sounds genuinely curious. He’s not just talking to me to pass the time until the others wake. My heart nearly stops at the thought that he wants to know more about me. I just wish he were asking about something less embarrassing.

“I may have slept through morning chores a few times when I was younger.”

He laughs quietly. “How many times is a few?”

Thank the Goddesses it’s still dark enough to hide my burning face. “Five or six.”

“He even slept through his mother yelling up at the window for him to get his ass out of bed,” Rusl breaks into our conversation. He yawns loudly. “And let me tell you, that woman has a pair of lungs on her.”

“Is that so?” Sheik rises to his feet in one fluid movement, and I sigh inwardly, feeling like some kind of spell is broken. Across the room, sparks jump as Rusl brings the fire back to life. Light and warmth instantly flood the room, and I shiver within my cloak, realizing for the first time just how cold it’s gotten within the shack. Tall Link shifts and groans, and pokes his head out from beneath his hood, blinking around at us blearily.

Sheik rummages around in his pack and comes up with a carefully folded map which he spreads out across the floor. I crawl over, careful to make sure the thick wool of my cloak is between me and the cold floor at all times. I sit down beside Rusl, and we wait for Sheik to speak.

“We’re here.” Sheik points to a black star right at the edge of Faron Woods. “We’re heading here.” He traces his finger across the wide expanse of Hyrule Field, stopping at a second star just shy of halfway across. “We should be able to make it there by midafternoon.”

No one argues. Sheik puts the map away, and we eat a silent breakfast as the sun climbs a bit higher in the sky. Before I know it, it’s time to pack up and leave. Sheik loops a wide, grey belt around his waist. A scabbarded dagger hangs off each hip. Their blades seem to be a few inches longer than my forearm, and a curving piece of metal loops from one end of the hilt to the other to protect the fingers. He didn’t have them at my house, so I figure he retrieved them at the scene of the massacre.

Sheik leaves the shack first, one hand on a dagger just in case any foolhardy monsters are hiding in the last remaining shadows. He opens the door a crack and pauses to listen before gliding out into the snow like a shadow.

“Clear,” he calls after a moment, and we follow him out into the quiet morning.

Sheik sets a brisk pace after we retrieve our horses and secure our things to their backs. We leave a trail of churned snow in our wake, and the forest disappears bit by bit. Soon we are left with white and grey fields stretching out in every direction, gently rolling hills undulating like waves, broken only by the occasional spindly-armed tree.

I fall into the pattern of Lightning Strike’s steps, and it lulls me into a trance, the fields disappearing beneath my horse’s hooves.

I blink and come back to myself just as Sheik drops out of the lead to ride beside me, leaving Rusl in charge of keeping us on track. There’s a narrow iced-over stream to our left that meanders on an aimless path.

Sheik hands me a square of hardtack and an apple. I blink with surprise as I take them. My fingers brush his, and I nearly drop the food, electric shocks racing under my skin. “Uh, thanks.”

He leans back in the saddle, every line in his body filled with easy grace. “I’m sorry for how I acted last night.”

A blush crawls up my neck, and I pretend to concentrate on the food so he won’t see it. “Oh. That’s, um, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I was trained to have better control over my emotions than that. You just caught me off guard.”

“It’s fine, really,” I promise.

“I thought you were just a foolish child. Perhaps I was wrong.” His voice trails off as if he’s falling deep into his thoughts, but he pulls himself out of it with a shake of his head. “Anyways. Enjoy your food.”

He clicks his tongue and taps his heels to his horse’s flanks, urging the animal to pick up speed so he can return to the front.

“Wait, Sheik,” I call on impulse, and he twists around in his saddle. A grin crawls across my face. “Are we there yet?”

Sheik groans and good-naturedly rolls his eyes, but doesn’t reply.

* * *

 

Sometimes, the time and distance slip by, and other times they have to be pulled along bit by torturous bit. Each new stretch of Hyrule Field looks exactly the same as the part we’d just left behind. Adventuring isn’t as exciting as the legends and old stories make it out to be. It’s actually a little disappointing.

When the sun is high in the sky, Sheik reins in at the base of a tall hill. The three of us gather around him. “What is it?” Rusl asks when he sees the concerned expression in Sheik’s eyes.

Sheik pulls his white scarf down away from his nose and sniffs at the air. “Do you smell that?”

The cold air makes my nose tingle on the way down, but I can’t catch a whiff of whatever it is Sheik smells. Rusl and Tall Link both shake their heads as well, shrugging as they look at each other. “What?” Rusl says after a beat when it seems like Sheik isn’t going to say anything else.

“Smoke.”

And then I do smell it. The stench is faint, almost imaginary, more like a feeling of wrongness in the air. It’s an acrid aftertaste following a breath of crisp, winter air. I get the feeling that Sheik knows what is causing the smoke but isn’t telling because he hopes he’s wrong. I can see it in the tilt of his eyebrows, the way they almost touch the ridge of his nose, and in the way the corners of his mouth curl.

“Come on,” he says tightly and kicks his horse into a canter.

Startled, we hurry after him, the horses’ hooves kicking up clumps of snow as we forge our way up the long hill. The closer we come to the top, the stronger the smell of smoke grows until it’s all around us and threatening to choke us. An oily, black column peeks over the crest of the hill. It climbs higher into the sky with every second, the wind tearing up its uppermost reaches.

Sheik stops to wait for us before descending down the other side. I see the cause of the smoke, and I nearly fall out of my saddle.

It’s the next safe house. It’s ablaze. The small shack is a dark shape within a laughing, cavorting ball of fire. The snow is painted in reds, oranges, and yellows, and the wet wood smokes heavily, the coiling pillar seeming to mock us.

“Who would do such a thing?” I ask. A wall collapses under its own weight, and sparks leap energetically in the place it leaves behind.

The whirling flames reflect off Sheik’s red eyes, the fiery motion at odds with the stone-cold rage that’s settled over his face. “Bandits,” he says.

“This happened recently,” Rusl adds. “Whoever did it might still be nearby.”

My grip on my reins tightens, and I look around nervously as if a leather-clad bandit is going to claw his way out of the snow.

“What do we do?” Tall Link adds tensely. His horse, a copper-colored mare with a white splotch on her forehead, paws at the snow and tosses her head. He calms her with a gentle pat.

“There’s nothing we can do but press on and hope we make it to the next safe house before dark,” Sheik replies. “We can’t spend the night out in the open.”

“How far is it?” Rusl loosens his sword in its scabbard which hangs from his saddle. His knuckles are white.

“If we ride fast, we should be able to make it.”

Somehow, I know that Sheik is lying. He doesn’t think we’ll be able to make it in time, but he doesn’t want us to give up hope, so he keeps the truth from us. Ice water rolls over my spine. We will probably die tonight.

Without another word, Sheik takes off down the hill. We pick up speed until we’re galloping through the snow, the icy wind freezing our fingers to our reins, trying to force our eyes shut. Everyone keeps half a glance on the sun, tracking its progress across the sky. I pray to all three Goddesses to slow it down, to prolong this day in any way possible. There’s a lump in my stomach that presses down harder and harder on my insides with each jolt of my horse, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Sheik pushes the horses to their limit, but the animals don’t falter. It’s as if they know that if they slow or flag, they, too, will die, pulled limb from limb by the monsters. My legs cramp in the saddle, and I don’t think I could move them even if I wanted too. My hands are frozen, practically blue, and it will take a hammer to remove them from the reins. I can’t feel my nose or my cheeks, but I keep silent. I’ll prove to Sheik that there’s no reason to babysit me.

Shadows begin to spread across Hyrule Field. The snow turns red. The sun mocks us, stretching out its fingers for its earthen bed. Sheik tries to get us to move faster, but the horses don’t have a drop left. Any second, I’m going to tumble from my saddle. Every part of me has gone numb, and Lightning Strike’s head has blurred with the ground.

When we’re young, we’re told stories of what happens to kids who stay out past sunset. A little boy who got lost chasing a ball in the woods, and all they ever found was a blood-speckled shoe and half of his wooden ball, cut clean in two. The little girl who snuck out of her bedroom window for a late night walk and was gobbled up by the very ground before she even got two steps, leaving nothing behind but her disheveled sheets. The twins who went out on a dare to catch a glimpse of a monster, thinking themselves clever because they’d hidden on the roof only to be snatched into the air by a reptilian bird with big, black wings.

Now we’re going to become a story told to warn others away from the night. Did you hear the tale about the four travelers who died trying to cross Hyrule Field at night? All of them were armed, and one was a highly trained Sheikah. No one really knows what happened to them. They left Ordon Village but never made it to Castle Town, and there’s no trace of their remains.

I almost crash into Tall Link when he suddenly stops, but Lightning Strike skids to a shuddering halt on his own. I gasp as I’m nearly thrown from the saddle, my hands grasping at the pommel and my legs tightening desperately around the horse’s sides.

Rusl and Sheik are stopped too, and Rusl’s sword is in his hand, the sun turning the blade orange. I follow the line of his gaze, and my heart begins to race as if it thinks it can beat its way out of my chest and flee back the way we came.

We stand at the top of a short hill, and the snowy slope leads down to another chasm ripped into the land by the ancient earthquake. A wooden bridge spans the break, wide enough for a merchant’s cart or for two horses to ride abreast. The way across is blocked by a gang of fur-clad men and women, all heavily armed. Six of them wait for us at the head of the bridge, and another four stand ready at the opposite end. Bare steel winks up at us.

Rusl curses under his breath, and Tall Link’s face has turned as pale as a glass of milk. His fingers rise to the hilt of his sword, but as soon as they grip it, they fall away like they don’t know what to do next. Sheik wears a face of impassivity, and I wonder how he can be so calm. My own stomach wants to follow my heart up my throat and run away and hide.

“Is there another way across?” Tall Link asks in a tight voice.

Sheik shakes his head. It’s like he’s turned into a marble statue, locking away all emotion and leaving behind only the cold and the will to do whatever needs to be done. He gently taps his heels to his horse and sets off down the slope.

Tall Link’s shoulders swell as he takes a deep breath. He reaches for his sword again, and this time, he pulls it free, letting it rest across his knees as he follows Sheik and Rusl down the hill.

My knife is still in my pack which is tied across Lightning Strike’s hindquarters. To get at it, I’ll have to twist all the way around, untie the pack, turn it or stretch until I can reach the top, and root inside blind until my fingers touch it. By the time I get that done, it could be too late.

I hurry after the others, but I make sure to hang back a little bit. I don’t want to get in the way. Sheik leaves about twenty feet of space between us and the bandits, and for a long time, neither party moves. I look at the men and women in front of us nervously. They are hard, tough. It’s impossible to tell the men from the women beneath the thick, fur capes they wear draped across their shoulders, wide hoods pulled up to cover their faces. Most of their baggy pants are patched in multiple places with multi-colored fabric, and their boots are caked with mud.

The two bandits at the back hold bows with arrows knocked to the strings, though luckily the points are aimed at the ground. The burliest one has a double-headed axe clasped in his hands – I think it’s a man due to his size – and he stands right beside a bandit who’s even smaller than me, two knives drawn. The last two thieves hold rust-pocked swords, and the one at the center has theirs propped casually on their shoulder.

“Can I help you?” Sheik asks coldly.

The center bandit steps forward and pushes back her hood with a free hand, revealing a sharp, fox-like face. Her black hair is bundled up into a messy bun at the top of her head, spilling wayward strands over her high cheekbones. I’m amazed to see that she found red paint for her lips somewhere, and it’s perfectly applied.

She grins, and her tongue flicks out from between her teeth briefly. “No, but perhaps we can help you. You’re looking to cross the bridge, yes?”

Sheik doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t have to.

“We’ll let you cross,” the bandit leader continues, unperturbed. “If you give us all your things and your horses. If not,” she shrugs and gestures vaguely at her companions, “we’ll take them, and you won’t cross the bridge.”

Because we’ll be dead. That’s what she means. Because we’ll be dead. Maybe we should just give them what they want. But without our horses, we won’t make it to the safe house, and we’ll die at the monsters’ hands.

“I am an ambassador to the royal family,” Sheik says. “You would do well to let us pass unmolested.”

The bandit throws back her head and laughs. The sound is as sharp as her features. “An ambassador and his entourage of country bumpkins. That’s cute.”

“Was it you who burned the safe house?” Sheik ignores her snide comment completely.

“Of course. Who else?”

“That’s a punishable offence.”

She steps forward a few more steps and spreads out her arms, sword point stretching out as well. She glances around, mockingly searching for something. “Who’s going to bring me in? There’s no real law out here, not this close to nighttime.”

“You’re right.” Sheik swings himself down from his horse and carefully loops his reins around the pommel so they won’t get tangled. He doesn’t look back at us but stands with his thumbs hooked on his belt. “I guess that makes me judge, jury, and executioner.”

And then Sheik disappears. One moment, he’s standing beside his horse, and then he’s gone, and then he’s right beside the bandits, only a dark blur left on the snow to mark his passage.

All the bandits give shouts of surprise and leap back. I can’t see what happens next, but suddenly, there’s a spray of blood on the snow, red and glistening, and the sword bearer to the leader’s left crumples. Both bows raise, and two arrows jump into the air, but Sheik flows between them, and one arrow takes the opposing bandit in the arm.

Rusl leaps down from his horse, sword in hand. “We have to help him!”

I want to say that Sheik seems to have things pretty well in hand, but then I see that the four other bandits are rushing across the bridge, and Sheik will soon be overwhelmingly outnumbered.

Tall Link doesn’t hesitate to join Rusl on the ground, and they take off towards the battle together. I climb down uncertainly. All I have is a knife, and I don’t know how to fight. Heart thundering and hands shaking, I rummage through my pack until I find the leather bound hilt. I slowly unsheathe it, and half of my face winks up at me.

Someone screams, and I nearly fall over. I stumble away from my horse, and I set off down the hill on legs that feel like jelly. Rusl and Tall Link are close enough to engage, and the two of them take on the axe-wielder together. The second bowman has another arrow drawn, but I can’t tell who it’s pointed at.

I pull the knife from its sheath and tuck the empty piece of leather in my belt. The four other bandits have reached the edge of the bridge, and I suddenly skid to a halt, all the muscles in my legs locking. I can’t fight. I can’t go into that. The spiraling bodies. The flashing blades. The splatter of blood on the snow. The shouts of pain.

Rusl and Tall Link are trading blows with the axe man, but neither side seems to be gaining any ground. Two of the newly arrived bandits are hurrying to join them. Sheik is taking on two people at once, and two is about to become four, and the bowman has just loosed an arrow at his back.

It’s as if Sheik hears the arrow coming. He deflects a knife strike and spins to the side so that the missile flashes past his neck and into the chest of one of the oncoming bandits. The leader yells angrily and flings herself at Sheik, sword raised over her head. Sheik sways back, avoiding being chopped in two by an inch. One leg snaps out behind him and knocks the smallest bandit over as he simultaneously crosses his daggers to block the woman’s stab, shifting its path a few inches to the side.

My legs finally unlock when I see that the small bandit has regained their feet and is sneaking up behind Sheik, knife drawn. I run forward, thinking maybe I can save Sheik’s life. Now, he’s handling three bandits by himself and won’t be able to stop the unseen knife strike.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, so I turn my thoughts off. I crash into the small bandit, and we plummet to the ground. I land on top, but the bandit shoves their hands into my chest and heaves me off with a growl. I scramble away as quickly as I can, rolling to the side just as a knife plunges into the snow.

When I look up, the bandit’s wild eyes bore into me. There’s a young boy’s face underneath the fur-lined hood. He snarls at me and lunges forward. I scrabble away desperately, crab-walking backwards awkwardly, knife lost in the snow.

Sheik’s battle rages around us without noticing even though I almost get stepped on four times. The boy claws his way towards me, gaining fast. I kick out wildly, hoping to knock him away, but I miss utterly and completely, and he slashes at me with his knife, the blade digging into the sole of my boot. My hands slip, and I thud to the ground. The boy reaches to grab my ankle, so I frantically yank my leg back, and the knife slips free.

The boy’s eyes are feral. Mine are probably just as wild and desperate. I should stand up so I can run away properly, but I’m worried that even that small pause will give the bandit enough time to catch up and kill me.

Suddenly, I bump into a pair of legs. A man shouts with surprise and tumbles to the ground, his feet tangling with my arms. An axe blade plants itself into the ground right beside me and disappears a moment later. The man I knocked over flails against me, and I hear Rusl’s voice curse.

The whistle of the axe comes again, and then the air is filled with screams. They’re raw and ear-splitting, formed with horror and pain and a desperate disbelief. Something warm splatters against the back of my head, and a wet, sucking sound makes a brief accompaniment to the screams which soar to a whole new level.

A hand falls on my boot, but I can’t think through the screaming and the shadows and the blood dripping through my hair.

“Rusl!” Tall Link yells, voice breaking. The shriek of metal overpowers the screams, and then a body hits the snow beside me. A bandit’s dark face leers at me with blank eyes and blood pouring out of his chest. The hand is ripped from my ankle.

The field falls silent. Well, nearly silent. The grunting and thudding of battle dies down, and the song of steel disperses into the wind. All that’s left is the ragged panting of the survivors and Rusl’s weak whimpers. He doesn’t have the strength to scream anymore.

I blink away tears of fear and shock. The boy bandit lays face down in the bloody snow, one of Sheik’s daggers in his back. I sit up slowly and look around. The field is littered with dead bodies, all of them fur-clad.

I turn around, my butt sliding easily on the slick snow, and a fresh wave of tears rises to my eyes. Tall Link and Sheik crouch over Rusl’s shaking body. His eyes peer desperately up at the sky as his mouth struggles to release his pain as one more scream, and Tall Link gently holds his limp hand. Sheik bows his head, and I see a bead of water track down his cheek.

I force myself to look at Rusl. There’s a giant, gaping hold where his stomach should be, and the red puddle beneath him grows bigger with each passing moment. His long, ropey intestines spill out across the ground, chopped almost in half in some places, and his other organs are mangled beyond recognition.

I nearly throw up as his breath hitches and blood bubbles out of his mouth.

I caused this.

Me.


	5. The Night

Chapter Four 

The Night

With a final, desperate, pleading shudder, Rusl falls still. It doesn’t look like he could be sleeping. There’s too much pain coiled beneath his waxy skin, and his eyes are two, vacant orbs, staring up at the reddening sky.

Sheik reaches out and gently shuts them. Tall Link won’t let go of Rusl’s hand. He’s kneading it and murmuring unintelligibly as if that will somehow bring the dead man back. The dark pool of blood stretches towards my feet, soaking through the snow, but I’m paralyzed by the enormity of what has just happened.

When the redness is an inch from my boots, Tall Link’s head suddenly snaps up, and his gaze locks on to me, blue eyes burning with tears and anger. He drops Rusl’s hand and surges to his feet, quickly closing the distance between us. He seizes a fistful of the front of my tunic, hauling me bodily into the air until we’re at eye level and my feet dangle about a half a foot off the ground.

“You,” he snarls in my face. “You caused this. This is your fault. If you hadn’t insisted on coming, Rusl would still be alive!” His voice breaks, tears threatening to overflow, and I can feel his entire body trembling. His muscles tense, bunching up so they can toss me through the air like a rag doll.

“If he hadn’t come, we’d all be dead,” Sheik interrupts. He walks up behind us and rests his hand on Tall Link’s shoulder. There’s moisture on his cheeks.

“How do you figure that?” Tall Link demands, using his anger to keep from breaking down into sobs.

“He saved my life.” Sheik keeps his voice calm and mellow, but my heart leaps, a blush spreading up my neck and over my face. “If he hadn’t been here, I would be dead, you would be dead, too, and Rusl would still be dead.”

Tears streaming openly down his face, Tall Link lowers me back to the ground and smooths out the wrinkles his hands have made on the front of my tunic. He drops his gaze, won’t look me in the eye, won’t say a word, and goes back to Rusl’s body. He kneels beside it, head bowed.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Sheik, my voice breaking. No matter what he says, I know this is my fault. If I had been smarter or faster or braver, Rusl would still be alive.

Sheik reaches out and claps me on the shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. For once, my skin doesn’t jolt when he touches it.

As Sheik returns to Rusl and Tall Link, I turn the other way, scuffing my feet desolately through the snow as I walk away. I’ve gone barely ten feet when the wink of metal catches my eye. It’s my discarded dagger, unbloodied and unused.

I crouch to pick it up and wipe the speckles of dirt away. The word ‘Courage’ stares up at me accusingly, the red sunlight catching on its edges, and I jam the knife back into its sheath. Courage. What a lousy joke. If I had courage, I would’ve stood and faced that bandit rather than skittering away like a bug. My heart sinks. My parents never should’ve named me Link. There’s never been a child less worthy of the name than me.

“We need to leave,” Sheik says, but he’s not talking to me, he’s talking to Tall Link. The real Link. The Link who’s brave and strong and knows how to fight.

“We can’t leave the body,” Tall Link protests.

“We have to.” Sheik is apologetic but firm. I turn back around, my gaze locked at eye level so I don’t accidentally look at the bloody catastrophe that I caused. Sheik is standing at Tall Link’s side, hand on his shoulder.

Tall Link knocks his arm away. “We can’t!” he bellows.

“We have to,” Sheik repeats. “We’re going to have to travel through a few hours of night to get to the safe house, and the smell of his blood and death will draw the Stalfos to us like a bloodhound to a kill. If we leave him here, it might be enough of a distraction for us to make it. It’s what he would’ve wanted. He wouldn’t want to put us in danger.” Sheik pauses before delivering the final blow. “And if we die tonight, then Rusl will have died in vain.”

Tall Link’s shoulders slump, and slowly, he nods, carefully folding Rusl’s hands across his blood soaked chest. As he climbs to his feet, Sheik whistles for the horses which have been waiting patiently at the top of the hill. They pick their way through the snow carefully.

Sheik stoops to pick Rusl’s sword up off the ground, and he uses one of the dead bandit’s shirts to clean the mud and the blood from it. He unties the sheath that hangs off the saddle of Rusl’s horse, sliding the blade inside with a rasp. Then he holds the weapon out to me.

I stare back at him with wide eyes. Sheik shakes the sword slightly, urging me to take it, and I hesitantly step forward. I reach out a hand, and Sheik passes the blade over. I almost drop it, the unexpected weight of it dragging my arm towards the ground.

I gather Rusl’s sword in both arms, cradling it awkwardly, and the edges dig into my elbows. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. I can’t seem to stop the shaking in my voice.

“Use it,” Sheik answers. He clicks his fingers, and his horse obediently walks over to him.

“But…I’ve never used a sword,” I object. The blade shifts in my arms every time I move, threatening to tumble to the ground, and I struggle to hitch it up again. “It’s so big, and it’s so heavy. I…I can’t…” I don’t know what exactly I can’t do. There are too many things to choose from.

“For now, just leave it in your saddle.” Sheik takes the sword back and moves over to Lightning Strike, strapping the sheathed weapon to the saddle so that when I get on the horse, it will lie at an angle under my leg, the hilt pointed up at my hand, in easy reach. I eye it uneasily. The first time I draw it, I’ll probably end up slicing my leg off.

I find myself at a loss for words, so I just climb into my saddle. The hilt of my knife jabs into my stomach, and I slide it to the side so it rests on my hip.

“It’s about four hours to the safe house,” Sheik says as he swings up onto his horse in one easy motion and ties the reins of Rusl’s animal to the back of his saddle. “We only have about two hours until it’s dark.”

He leaves the ‘we need to leave now’ part unsaid.

With one last look at Rusl’s broken and mangled body, Tall Link finally moves away and mounts his horse, nodding to Sheik that he’s ready to go.

We set off at a gallop. The horses are still tired from our previous fast haul, but they regained some of their wind while we were doing battle. My insides feel hard as rocks as the winter land spools out beneath us.

Too soon, far too soon, the sky begins to darken, the blackness eating away at the red sunset sky like ink spreading across a page. We have to slow the horses down; if we don’t, we’ll risk injuring them. As we travel, our shadows shorten piece by piece.

“How much further?” Tall Link asks as we trot along.

“Too far,” Sheik replies.

“Can we make it?” I’m at the back of the group, not wanting to feel anyone’s eyes on my back.

“If we’re lucky.”

We haven’t given the horses enough of a rest, but we urge them into a canter anyways. Better exhausted and alive than well rested and dead. The next hour crawls by, my fear making each second tick, and the coiling, venomous snake grows as the sun continues to set.

And then, all of a sudden it seems, it’s completely dark.

My breath hitches when I look up from my hands and realize the night is complete. In front of me, Tall Link’s back is as stiff as an oak tree, and I can see the muscles in his neck sticking straight out. Lightning Strike’s body trembles beneath me, and his legs spread out into a gallop without me having to tell him to.

For a long time, we’re lucky. We eat away at the distance between us and safety without anything clawing its way out of the ground. Maybe out gambit with Rusl’s body is working. Maybe the Goddesses are watching over us. Or maybe we’re just lucky and there aren’t any monsters living in this stretch of Hyrule Field.

Everything looks different at night, I think to myself as I ride. Having never been outside past sunset, never even looked out the window, I’ve never actually realized the vast changes that darkness brings.

Even the shape of the land has been changed. It’s softer, the curves less pronounced, bits and pieces of them lost in shadows. The snow looks silver in the starlight, and the tips of the dead grass that poke through in patches look like skeleton fingers.

My butt turns from fire to lightning to numb, and still there’s no sign of the next safe house. Eventually, my heart decides that it can’t continue to thunder wildly or it’ll give out, so it slows down to its normal pace. I yawn and rub at my eyes with the back of my hand. I’ve been up since before dawn, and the stress of the day – the burnt safe house, the desperate ride, the battle with the bandits, Rusl’s death – have been eating away at the last of my reserves. I’m ready to drop from my saddle.

“I don’t believe it,” Sheik says suddenly.

I blink blearily, forcing my vision to clear, as Sheik slows just a little bit. I squint through the darkness, trying to see what he sees. A dark smudge swims into view, a black square in a field of silver snow. The top of the smudge rises up to a point, and I realize with a start that it’s the safe house.

“We made it,” Tall Link gasps, and my heart sinks. I really wish he hadn’t said that. We aren’t in the safe house yet, so we haven’t _actually_ made it. Tall Link’s saying so probably means that something horrible is going to happen soon.

“Let’s hurry,” I suggest, and no one argues.

Eagerly, we cross the expanse, hardly daring to believe that we might arrive without being accosted. My heart resumes its thundering race, and I swear it feels like my ribs are about to break.

Abruptly, Sheik’s horse locks its legs and skids to a halt, dragging a grunt of surprise from Sheik’s throat. I pull up on Lightning Strike’s reins, desperate to not crash into Tall Link or Sheik.

I don’t have to ask what’s wrong, because I can see and hear exactly what caused the horse to panic.

The ground is writhing and churning, bubbling up as if something is pushing its way free from below. Yellow fingertips poke through the dirt first like flower buds appearing in the spring.

“Get inside,” Sheik orders in his cold-calm voice.

“We can help,” Tall Link says, reaching up to draw his sword. A skeletal forearm with thin vines curling around the bones punches free and clamps down on the ground, using its newfound purchase to lever its upper body free. Dirt tumbles free from its rounded skull, and two red eyes leer up at us, glowing in the darkness.

“No. Get inside.”

Tall Link and I don’t argue. He leads the way in a wide circle around the skeleton as Sheik springs down from his horse and draws a dagger from his belt. The Stalfos shakes its other arm free and swipes at Sheik’s legs. I turn around in my saddle to watch. Sheik leaps back, just far enough to avoid the sharp fingernails, then lunges forward and drives his dagger through the top of the skeleton’s skull. It shrieks wildly, mossy teeth snapping, and the glow in its eyes fades away to nothing.

“Link, look out!”

Suddenly, I’m airborne, legs ripped from the stirrups. I slam into the ground on my back, and the air is driven from my lungs. I gasp uselessly as I flop over onto my stomach and struggle back to my feet, the clash of steel ringing in my ears.

When I spin around, Tall Link has locked swords with a second Stalfos, this one even larger than the one Sheik just skewered. It’s two feet taller than Tall Link, and the blonde man’s arms and knees are starting to shake, his face contorted with the strain of holding the Stalfos at bay.

Behind me, I hear Sheik curse, and when I glance back, he’s clashing with a third skeleton.

I look back at Tall Link. The Stalfos has nearly driven him to his knees, and with a cry, he disengages and jumps back, the rusted sword thudding to the ground where his feet had been moments before. The snarling monster advances towards him, rust red shield held out in front of it.

My numb fingers pull my knife from my belt. I messed up last time, but maybe I can do better now. the fear is still there, nibbling away at my insides, but this time, it doesn’t lock my limbs into place, and so I creep forward, boots silent in the snow. The monster is a foot past me, stalking towards Tall Link and forcing him back.

I glide forward, carefully placing my steps in time with the Stalfos’s so it won’t hear me. It raises its sword arm over its head, and Tall Link grips his blade with two hands and tilts it defensively across his body.

Without thinking, I dart forward and drive my knife between the Stalfos’s ribs, right where I think its heart is. The monster’s skeleton seizes up and goes rigid, sword arm still raised, and a grueling shriek erupts from its mouth. I twist the knife, and it grinds against the bone. I tear the blade out and step back just as Tall Link’s sword slices through the air, cleaving the skeleton’s skull right down it its eye sockets.

The Stalfos shudders and collapses when Tall Link jerks his weapon free. The two of us are left staring at each other, our blades dripping matching black ichor. Tall Link nods to me. “Thanks.”

I give him a forced smile, my entire body shaking, my hands worst of all. Some of the strange liquid has dripped around the hilt and onto my hands. It’s cold and gummy.

A crack shreds the air behind us, and I spin around just in time to see Sheik kick the final Stalfos’s shield away and drive his daggers through its eye sockets. Black ichor oozes out from the wounds and drips lazily down the bone when Sheik pulls the knives out. The Stalfos drops to the ground, strings cut.

“Get inside, quickly. Before more come,” Sheik orders curtly. “I’ll see to the horses.”

Tall Link runs across the short stretch of snow to the door and yanks it open. I’m right on his heels, and we tumble into the dark shack. I hear Sheik and the horses moving around outside, over to the small stable at the back of the safe house. Tall Link and I wait for him silently, unable to see each other in the darkness. I rub the black goo off my hands and onto my pants.

A few minutes later, the door opens, letting in a shaft of silver moonlight, and Sheik steps inside, laden with our packs and Rusl’s sword. I guess it’s my sword now. He bars the door behind him, giving the plank of wood a shake to makes sure it’s secure.

Sheik sets a watch, and we all lie down with barely a word. I don’t think any of us actually sleep that night.

* * *

All three of us wake with the sun. My whole body aches in protest as I sit up, the cloak falling from my shoulders. My back feels like a tapestry of bruises, and my legs tremble with every shift, exhausted from the day of riding.

I groan, watching Sheik pop to his feet like he’s just woken up from a full night’s rest in a feather bed. His long, blonde braid isn’t even disheveled. He rummages through his pack and comes up with three squares of hard tack, tossing one to each of us. Mine bounces off my cold fingers and falls to my lap, and I blink at it tiredly.

“We can make it to Castle Town today, right?” Tall Link asks.

I pick up my breakfast, and it nearly breaks my teeth when I bite into it.

“Yes,” Sheik replies. “We should be there by midday.”

“Thank Naryu,” Tall Link sighs.

When we finish breakfast, we get up and gather our things. Actually, Tall Link has to drag me upright, because my limbs don’t want to respond. Outside the shake, the bones are gone, burned away by the new sun.

Our horses are waiting for us patiently in the dusty stable. I tie down my pack with fumbling motions, securing the sword to the side of the saddle. I’m the last one to climb onto my horse’s back, my limbs still slow to wake.

We go slow for the first few hours. We pushed the horses hard yesterday, and they need – as well as deserve – a rest, and we want to make sure they don’t go lame. The day is overcast, as grey and cloudy as all of our moods. We don’t speak to each other, though occasionally Sheik glances back as if he wants to say something, but each time his mouth snaps shut.

I fall asleep in my saddle, vaguely noticing that Sheik drops back to grab my lead reins and make sure that my horse stays in line. Just like last night, in the blackness of my own head, images begin to dance and swirl, painted across my mind’s eye in red brush strokes.

There’s the boy bandit’s wild-eyed face staggering towards me, arms outstretched, my knife in his chest and blood dripping out of his mouth. He morphs into a Stalfos that pulls the blade from his stomach, and it elongates into a sword as he does. With a bloodcurdling scream, it slashes at me, and a searing pain lances through my stomach. When I look down, dark red blood soaks through my shirt and drips down my pants. My body falls, but I remain upright, and I turn around to see Rusl lying on the black ground, trying to hold his guts inside him. He looks up at me with milk-white eyes.

I jerk awake suddenly, cold sweat dripping down my back and my heart in my throat. We’ve come to a halt, and Sheik gives me a strange look but doesn’t say anything.

I look up and lose my breath. A river cuts through the field in front of us, and behind it, a sprawling city waits, its curling, cobblestone streets marching off in all directions, weaving in between houses with colorful, tiled roofs and white-washed walls. People bustle about, baskets on hips or carts in hands.

At the center of town, a tall, grey wall rises towards the sky. Sweeping, blue-tiled towers soar over the top of it, topped by metal spires. Crows circle the graceful building, tiny, black spots in the grey sky.

My mouth drops.

Castle Town.


	6. Castle Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! Sorry this took so long. Me being me, I like to commit myself to far too many things at once, so I started working on this Supernatural/Teen Wolf cross-over. I was busy with that, so that's why this chapter took so long. If you like those fandoms, though, you should totally check it out! It's quite good, I think.

Chapter Five: 

Castle Town

“Back when the Hero was alive, the entire town was contained behind the wall,” Sheik explains as we stare up at the city with tilted necks. “As you can see, it’s grown in the years since, spread past its borders.”

“Aren’t people afraid of monsters wandering through the streets at night?” Tall Link asks tiredly. Everyone fears that back at Ordon Village. That’s why we never leave our houses.

“The town is laid out in a sigil of warding and protection, that’s why the streets look like such a tangle. The sigil repels Stalfos, and there are guards who patrol at night,” Sheik answers.

He taps his heels against his horse’s sides and leads us towards the drawbridge that marches over the wide, grey river and into town. I yawn as I fall into line. Our hooves thud over the wooden planks, the sound gaining a higher-pitched, clanging tone when we pass over onto the cobblestone streets.

The city dwellers part naturally around us, flowing past our horses like a river, women in brightly-colored skirts, bandanas tied in their long hair, and men in smocks or dark jackets. Everyone either carries a pot hooked on their hip or resting on their head, or they push a cart along in front of them. They all seem to be going someplace like they’re already ten minutes late.

The streets we walk down are lined with vendor stalls. Fruit and vegetable stalls, baked goods, florist stalls, weapon stalls, stalls selling clothing or folds of dyed cloth. I try to stare at everything, wide-mouthed and goggle-eyed. The scents of sizzling meat and fresh-baked bread waft over me, enticing and comforting.

“I’ve never seen so many people,” Tall Link gasps, and I nod in agreement. The people who hurry every which way are practically touching shoulders, having to weave and slide to get anywhere. I’m glad for the advantage our horses give us. Their size serves as a path-maker through the crowd; I don’t think I would be able to move an inch if I were on foot.

“Where are we going?” I call to Sheik, leaning out to the side so I can see his back around Tall Link.

“To the castle,” Sheik replies over his shoulder. “I want to see how soon we can get an audience with Princess Zelda.”

A strange croaking sound comes out of Tall Link. “W-what? We’ve been riding for days! Shouldn’t we wash and change? Freshen up?”

Sheik makes a dismissive gesture. “Princess Zelda doesn’t really hold to formalities. She’d prefer we not keep her waiting.”

The croaking sound comes again, higher-pitched this time, and my heart stutters, too. How do people interact with royalty? How does that work? What do I do with my arms? Or my hands? Or my legs or feet? Or my mouth? Basically, what do I do?

The buildings grow a little bit cleaner and fancier the closer we get to the tall, grey wall, and the roving guards become a little more numerous. I tip my head back to find the top of the structure and nearly fall of my horse. The top of the wall seems to swallow the sky.

The giant, metal gate is open when we approach it, and two green-clad guards stand on either side with their pikes raised, helmets gleaming in the sun. They straighten slightly and snap off salutes when they spot Sheik’s lithe form coming towards them through the crowd.

The guards approach us, and we rein in before them. Sheik leans down and clasps the hand that one of the soldiers offers him. “Jael,” he greets the man. “How are you?”

“The same,” the man says. His brow furrows as he looks around our group, peering into Tall Link’s and my faces. “Who are these people? Where are Lu-on and Russo?”

Sheik drops his hand and slumps back, sighing. “We were attacked just outside of Ordon Village. Lu-on and Russo…didn’t make it.”

Both guards gasp and take a step back. The one who didn’t shake Sheik’s hand – a woman with a spray of freckles across her nose – raises a hand to her mouth.

“These two,” Sheik gestures at Tall Link and me, “accompanied me from the village to make sure I got here safely.”

It’s not the whole story, but I can see why Sheik chose a simpler version; the true tale would take to long to tell and would dredge up all the pain of the last few days.

“I need to tell Princess Zelda what’s happened,” Sheik continues. “May we go in?”

“Of course.”

The two guards salute Sheik again and step back, returning to their posts on either side of the gate. Sheik glances over his shoulder, nodding for us to follow him, and passes through the towering archway. I look up, wondering what it would take to make that massive piece of metal come crashing down on my head, cutting me right in two.

I let out a sigh of relief when we step out the other side of the arch.

On this side of town, the buildings are definitely nicer with painted walls and gleaming signs proclaiming what service they offer. We pass inns and taverns, shops selling clothing that look fit only for royalty, stores with only shoes, and so many other things that my head begins to whirl. The clanging of the blacksmith at the corner fills the air. Men and women in official-looking robes stride through the roads looking harried, and there are workers who tire endlessly to sweep dirt from the cobblestones.

The wide street we follow eventually opens up into an open square, a glittering fountain in its center. Canopy-covered carts and stands circle around the space, laden with exotic goods. Shoppers haggle furiously with the vendors, shaking fists and occasionally stalking away only to be called back by desperate merchants. The noise and the drone of the babble is enough to make my ears ache. I want to clap my hands over them or maybe flee the scene entirely and find a quiet patch of space to curl up in, but I don’t want to come off as a total country bumpkin.

“This market only opens up once a month,” Sheik says as we skirt around the perimeter. “You’re lucky to be able to see it. Merchants used to come from every corner of Hyrule to sell their wares, but now none of them want to brave the night to make the journey. Only Castle Town merchants set up shop these days, though it’s still an impressive sight.”

He can say that again. I never imagined that there could be so many different types of things to sell in the whole world.

The three of us leave the square, turning up another wide street lined with white-washed buildings. The castle looms up ahead of us, grey and graceful. It sits higher than the rest of the city, a long set of stone steps leading up to its guarded front doors.

Another pair of soldiers stop us when we reach the base of the stairs. They both bow to Sheik as he swings down from his horse, motioning for us to do the same. I climb out of the saddle gingerly, and my legs almost collapse beneath me when I touch the ground. I cling to Lightning Strike, blinking away black spots.

“I need to see Princess Zelda right away,” Sheik says briskly. “Can you get someone to take care of our horses?”

“Of course, Ambassador,” one of the guards replies. He gestures towards someone out of my line of sight, and a man in brown trousers and a dirty shirt hurries up to us, a cap stuffed over his messy hair. “Take the Ambassador’s horses to the stable and have the bags sent up to his rooms,” the guard orders him.

The groom bows and takes the reins from my hands, gathering them up with the other two leads. He clicks his tongue, pulling the horses away, and leaves me feeling exposed.

The guard turns back to Sheik. “You can go up. The princess should be in the throne room right now.”

“Thanks. We’ll be just a minute.”

With a salute, the soldiers go back to their posts, leaving Tall Link, Sheik, and me alone.

“Sleepy Link, I want you to wait out here while Tall Link and I go in,” Sheik begins, and my mouth drops open.

“What–!”

Sheik bowls right over me, cutting of my protest. “I’m sending you home as soon as I can, so you don’t need to be there. Here.” He reaches into a belt and pulls out a small, black pouch that clinks when he drops it in my hand. “Go wander around the market, and we’ll find you when we’re done.”

“Hold on a second!” I yelp, finally finding my voice. “I want to go with you!”

“You can’t,” Sheik says bluntly. “We’ll see you in a few hours. Come on, Tall Link.”

Sheik starts up the stairs. Tall Link shrugs and gives me an apologetic look before turning around and hurrying after him, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

“Wait!” I call, stretching out a hand as if I can catch them and bring them back, but Sheik doesn’t react.

My blood heats up. All my life, I’ve been left out. All my life, I’ve been forgotten or shoved into corners. And I’ve gone along with it. I’ve figured it was for the best. I thought it made my life easier. But no more. I don’t want to sit idly by or be treated like a child.

I don’t want to be Sleepy Link any longer.

Furiously, I tie the money pouch to my belt and spin on my heel, stalking off towards a narrow side street to my right. I’m going to that meeting. I don’t care what I have to do.

As soon as I can, I cut to the right, moving parallel to the castle. I’m one of three people walking down the street, and I try to mold my expression into something less furious so I don’t attract attention.

The castle doesn’t have a wall separating it from the town, but it’s elevated off the street level, and the stairs I just left behind are the only way up. A slab of lichen-streaked foundation rises up over the houses to my left.

When I’m halfway up the street, a stroke of luck comes my way. The buildings open up into a small park that presses right up against the foundation of the castle. There are two stone benches half-buried in snow, and a massive oak tree climbs into the air. Some of its uppermost branches reach the castle wall, swaying in the stiff winter wind.

A smile spreads across my face. It’s not a climb any sane person would make, but I’m small, light, and not afraid of heights.

I run up to the tree and jump, planting one foot against the trunk and flinging myself up. My arms wrap around a thick branch, and I swing myself up and around until I’m sitting on top of it, the bark cold and slightly icy beneath my fingers. I get my feet under me and stand, braced against the tree trunk.

Luckily, the branches are close together, and it’s easy enough to swarm up the tree, pulling myself higher and higher, feet planted in the Vs between the limbs and hands searching for good grips. Twigs scrape down my arms and back, tugging at my clothes with hungry fingers. My breath begins to come in heavy pants, and I feel my heart rise with exertion and exhilaration. I’ve always loved climbing, the feeling of leaving the ground far behind and going someplace where most people can’t or won’t follow.

Before long, the branches begin to thin, swaying beneath my weight, and the wind is suddenly much stronger, plucking at me with vicious talons. My hands go numb, and the cold burns my face, but I climb higher still, the castle taking shape before me.

A branch snaps under me, the sound like thunder in my ears, and my leg plunges into open space. My other foot slips, balance lost, and I claw at the trunk, another branch, anything to keep myself from falling. My fingers catch around a limb just above my head just as my foot finishes its treacherous slide, and suddenly, I’m dangling over open air and frozen dirt. My boots bang against the tree, searching for purpose, desperate for a stable hold, until one jams into a nearby V and the other braces against the thick end of a branch.

Secure, I let out a shaking breath and lean my head against the old bark. That was close. It’s definitely time to get off this goddesses-damned tree.

I look over at the castle. There’s a window just a little bit below me with an iron lining that should be thick enough for me to grab onto. I pull my foot out of the V and transfer it to the branch my other boot is on, slowly lowering myself down and spinning until I’m crouched with my hands pressed against the same limb, pointed towards the castle wall.

I crawl forward, hand over foot, eyes locked on the grey stone so I don’t look down and see how ridiculously high I am and how little there is holding me up. The branch is maybe the width of my palm. My perch begins to dip towards the ground, and I stop. Any further and I’ll slip right off the front.

The muscles in my legs bunch, and I jump off the branch, losing half my momentum as it bows away from my feet. I stretch out my arms, my stomach plummeting when I realize I’m not going to make it. Then my fingers hook around the iron bar at the top of the window. The rest of my body slams into the wall, and the air is crushed from my lungs.

I groan, imagining the bruises that will be crawling up my body tomorrow. I pull my legs up slowly and brace them on the bottom of the window. The throne room should be in the center of the castle. When I was down on the steps, I saw that the building has four round turrets on each corner, and a taller, main structure rises in the center, its blue-tiled roof swooping up to a steepled point. The throne will be in the center of that part of the castle. I hope.

The wall I’m clinging to is weathered and worn, and there are cracks between the stones that are big enough for me to slip my fingers into, though they’re smooth and probably slick.

I struggle to uncurl my hands from around the metal bar. I think they’re partially frozen. I push off of the lower window with my foot and reach towards the nearest crack. I pull myself up the castle wall as fast as I can, wedging my cramping fingers and toes into the small spaces as far as they’ll go.

I climb over another window, glad that there are curtains to hide me from the occupants. The wind is still raging around me, stronger than ever, and my entire body is shuddering so hard I’m afraid I’ll bounce right off the wall.

I keep moving, hand over hand, with no thoughts bouncing in my head. After the third floor, the windows taper off, and the higher I climb, the smoother the stones become until I can barely get a grip. I crane my neck, resting my chin on the cold wall, and look up, spotting a large, round window right beneath the overhanging roof. If that’s not the throne room, I’m probably dead.

I take a long, deep breath and then start off again, trying to force life back into my limbs. Sheik tried to keep me out of the meeting, just like everyone else. I can’t stand for that anymore. I have to be different. And so, I have to climb this damn castle.

Wait, this could get me into serious trouble if I’m caught.

I quickly shake my head to clear the troublesome thought away. I won’t get caught. That’s the only perk of being small and nondescript; people never notice me.

Suddenly, I’m at the round window, and I blink in surprise, having missed the last leg of my journey. I poke my nose up over the sill, peering into the castle.

The room below me is one large space, spanning three floors. A green stretch of carpet spans the black and white-tiled ground and up to a set of steps to the ornately carved, silver and gold throne. A massive stone statue towers over the chair, reaching almost to my window. The three goddesses swirl around each other with serene expressions, encompassed by a set of blocky windows. The Triforce sits nearly at the apex of the statue, each goddess stretching to touch their own triangle, and pillars ring the entire throne room, as tall as my window. They have flat, square tops that are wide enough to stand on.

Tall Link and Sheik stride up the green carpet as I watch, towards a young woman standing before the throne. I’m too far away to see her closely, but she wears a long, purple dress with small, golden spaulders across the shoulders. Her brown hair falls down her back, the bottom quarter bound into a short tail by golden cloth.

I frown. I can see the meeting but not hear it. That’s no good. I press my hand against the window pane, and to my great surprise, it swings open. Who in Din’s name makes a window that can open this high up? When would you ever need one? And why is it so well-oiled?

The lower half of the window swings in and up silently, letting a cold draft of air into the building.

“Your Highness.” Sheik’s words float up to me as I climb carefully through the window, pressing myself against the sill to slide through, and drop to the top of a pillar.

“Ambassador Sheik.” The princess’s voice is melodious, like a harp strumming a lullaby. It’s quiet, though. I barely make out half of her next sentence. “I’m so glad….”

I need to get closer.

Sheik and Tall Link bow at the same time, their faces pointed towards the floor, and I leap off my pillar without thinking. I land on top of the goddess Farore, behind the right-hand triangle of the Triforce. My boots hit silently, kicking up a tiny puff of dust.

I lean over to peep through the empty triangle in the center and quickly yank my head back again. I’m still very high up, but I’m much closer to the meeting than I was before, close enough to see the dirt on Sheik’s face. If he’d looked up, he would have seen me instantly. I sit down on the goddess’s feet and lean up against the back of the Triforce.

“What happened?” Princess Zelda asks. “Tell me everything.”

So Sheik does. He tells her about setting off from Castle Town with Lu-on and Russo, traveling across Hyrule Field without a mishap. How he thought they could make it all the way to Ordon Village, but he was wrong, and they were attacked. He tells her about the deaths of his companions. They died heroically, fighters until the end. He recounts how my father and Tall Link saved him and took him back to their home.

Then he gestures at Tall Link. “Princess Zelda, this is Link.”

My heart sinks, and I slump a little lower. Not Tall Link. Just Link. It’s like I don’t even exist.

Princess Zelda gasps. “Your name is Link?”

“Uh, yes, Your-Your Highness,” Tall Link answers nervously.

“And you’re from Ordon Village?”

A beat of silence. I suppose Tall Link is nodding.

“Come up here, please,” Princess Zelda orders, and Tall Link’s footsteps echo around the large room.

“I saw something in his aura,” Sheik says. “Something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I thought you might have better luck.”

Sheik is quite informal with the princess, I notice with a jealous jolt. He doesn’t call her Highness or Majesty or anything. I wonder what their relationship is. Are they more than friends? I shake my head quickly – why do I care so much about their relationship? Sheik doesn’t think very much of me, and he never will.

But I want him to.

“Let me see,” Princess Zelda replies. “Give me your hands.”

Silence rules the room for several minutes. I want to take another peek and see what’s going on, but I’m afraid that Sheik will spot me the instant my hair pokes out from behind the statue. So I force myself to wait quietly.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Princess Zelda says finally, sounding amazed. “You have a great courage inside of you, Link. Courage of a kind that the world hasn’t seen for fifty years.”

I blink back a sudden wash of tears. It’s official, then. Tall Link is the Hero Chosen by the Gods, and I’m just…Sleepy. I try to tell myself that this is a good thing. Good for Tall Link. Good for the world. If anyone can purge the darkness, it’s Tall Link. Maybe Sheik is right. Maybe I should just go home. Then I won’t get in the way and jeopardize the quest.

“Link,” the princess continues somberly. “Will you take up a quest to find the Master Sword and save Hyrule from the darkness that has covered it for so many years?”

“I–” Tall Link hesitates. He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“The Master Sword is lost,” Sheik points out. “It has been since the last Link defeated Ganondorf.”

“What do you mean lost?” Tall Link demands in a tight voice.

“After the twilight was banished from Hyrule, Link took off on another quest.”

“He found that he had trouble returning to normal life,” Princess Zelda interjects.

I picture Sheik giving the princess one of his trade-mark, red-eyed looks. “Yes, that’s true. Weeks passed, and nobody heard a word from him. And then months. The royal family sent out multiple search parties, but each one came back without finding a trace of the Hero.

“Then the monsters started coming out of the woods and took over the night. The months turned into years, and Link still didn’t return. Eventually, people gave up hope that he would ever come back.”

“Where did he go? On his quest?” Tall Link asks.

“Into the Lost Woods.”

My brow furrows in puzzlement. The what?

“The Lost Woods?”

“An ancient part of the Faron Woods, so deep that most people have never heard of it,” Sheik answers.

“That’s where the Stalfos came from,” Princess Zelda adds. “They used to be confined to the woods. Travelers would find themselves lost in the forest because of the ancient power that lived there, and when they died, their souls would get trapped in their bones, cursed to wander among the trees, searching for other victims.”

I shiver, and it has nothing to do with my cold clothes and bones.

“What was he looking for?” Tall Link wonders, sounding as engrossed with the story as I feel.

“No one knows,” Princess Zelda says. “He never told anyone what he was doing. He just said he was going to find the Lost Woods and left.”

“So, you want me to go to the Lost Woods, find his body, and retrieve the Master Sword?” Tall Link asks apprehensively.

“I’ll accompany you, of course,” Sheik promises.

“It’s the only way to rid the land of darkness,” the princess tells him.

There’s a long pause, charged with the tension of an entire dying world. I can’t imagine what’s going through Tall Link’s head right now. This is basically a death quest, a fool’s errand. I would go, I realize. I’m quite sure why, but it has to do with the magnitude of it all, the idea of doing something that’s bigger than myself. Finally, Tall Link takes a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.” There’s a rustle of skirts, and when I risk a quick look, Princess Zelda is clasping his hands, and Tall Link’s face turns bright red.

“If it’s alright, Zelda, I’d like to spend a few weeks training Link before we set out,” Sheik says. I scowl. That will give him enough time to ship me home, so he won’t have to worry about me following him again.

“Of course. It’s always best to be as prepared as possible. Oh!” Princess Zelda’s voice perks up suddenly. “I have a few things for you. One moment.”

This time, I have to look. Even if Sheik sees me. Princess Zelda walks up to the throne and kneels beside one of the armrests, running her finger over the silver panel in a strange pattern. A click echoes, and the entire arm of the chair pops off and falls into the princess’s arms. Setting it aside, she reaches into the throne, pulling out a bundle wrapped in leather cloth.

The princess cradles the package in her arms as she stands, carrying it almost reverently over to Tall Link and holding it out. He takes it from her carefully and unwraps the leather cloth with jerky movements. It falls away, revealing a glittering piece of thin chainmail sitting atop a pile of green fabric.

Tall Link tucks the chainmail under his arm. Then he shakes the green fabric out. It uncurls into a long tunic, and a pointed hat falls to the floor. Even all the way up here, I can see the way Tall Link’s eyes widen.

“Is this…what I think it is?” he breathes in wonderment.

“Yes. It’s the Hero’s Tunic,” Princess Zelda answers.

“What’s it doing here?”

“Link left it behind.”

_Almost like he knew he wasn’t coming back_ , I think, and a moment later, Sheik says those exact same words.

Princess Zelda shrugs, spreading out her white-gloved hands in a confused gesture.

Tall Link crouches down to scoop the green hat up, then he folds it up inside the tunic and puts the chainmail on top, clutching the entire bundle to his chest.

“You’ve both had a long journey,” the princess says. “I’ll let you get some rest. Sheik, come see me sometime before you leave on your journey.”

“Of course,” Sheik replies, and my heart jumps. They’re leaving, and that means I have to get out of here, too.

But how? I can’t make it back to the top of the pillar; it’s too far above me to jump to, and there’s nothing on the side facing me to grip onto.

Sheik and Tall Link turn around and head back down the carpet, and I start to panic. I have no idea how I’m going to get out of this throne room. If I climb down the statue, Princess Zelda will see me, but if I try to jump, I’ll plummet to the ground and at least maim myself if I don’t die. But if I don’t find away out, Sheik will know I disobeyed him, and I’ll be in so much trouble with the palace guards.

And then I have my second stroke of luck.

In the dim shadows that shroud the right side of the pillar, I see the ghostly outline of a series of handholds dug into the stone. It’s an escape route, I realize. So the royal family can get away if the throne room is attacked. But it’s not a very good escape route, is it? Where would they go after they climb out the window?

I’ll figure that part out later.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself to make what seems like a near-impossible jump, and then I leap off the statue, angling myself to the side towards the ladder. I stretch out a hand and snatch one of the handholds, the rock rough and easy to grip. I catch the castle wall with my legs and fling my free hand upwards. I grab onto another ledge just as my weight falls fully on my hands, and I jam my toes into place on the ladder before my grip can slip.

I pause there a moment, breathing heavily but quietly, then peek under my arm to check if I’ve been noticed. Princess Zelda is walking in the opposite direction, heading towards a smaller door than the one Sheik and Tall Link left through. I let out a sigh of relief.

The climb is quick and easy, and the window is still open from my entrance. I poke my head outside, crouched atop the pillar. It’s started to snow, and the great, white flakes touch against my nose and cheeks before tumbling away, headed for the ground.

I I can’t go down the same way I came up; that’s for sure, so I glance towards the roof, and a smile creeps over my face. If I stand on the bottom sill and stretch, I’ll just barely be able to reach the edge of the blue tiles.

I flip over until I face the sky and pull myself outside, gripping the thick metal bars that cut the window into pie-shaped wedges. I get my feet under me and stand, balanced precariously in the wind. With a tiny jump, I catch the lip of the roof, walking my feet up the wall and pulling myself up onto the slope, my toes curled inside my boots as if that will help me grip the tiles.

On all fours, I scamper across the top of the castle towards the front doors, my feet slipping and sliding with every step. It’s nearly impossible to see through the grey skies and the dancing snow, but I fix my eyes on the dark shape of a tower and head towards it. There’s a small patch of flat, bare stone between the roof I’m on and the side of the turret, and I drop onto it gratefully, legs burning and begging for rest.

Unfortunately, there’s no time to stop. Any minute, Sheik and Tall Link will be walking out the front door and descending into the market to search for me.

I look over the edge of the wall, searching for the ground. On one side, it’s too far to drop down to, and the other side, by the stairs, has guards prowling up and down through the snow.

I watch their patterns for a minute, then I get up and move to the edge of the wall. There’s a bare, prickly-branched pine tree growing right beside me, so I sit down on the wall and hop off, dropping silently to the ground, hidden by the trunk.

A guard marches past with the butt of her spear knocking against the stone. When she spins around, I dart out of my hiding spot and into her shadow, timing my steps with hers. We walk past the start of the stairs, and I have a small window of time to get out from behind her. I move to the side, but I don’t head down the stairs right away, since the guard will see me as soon as she turns. Instead, I crouch and slip off the side of the stone, dangling and suspended only by my fingers.

Footsteps tramp past my precarious position, and after a beat, I pull myself up and practically fling myself down the staircase. Then I force myself to slow. If I hurry too much, I’ll look like I’m not supposed to be there. I keep my head high and my step quick, and I walk right past the men guarding the bottom of the stairs. My heart thunders wildly, convinced that a shout will suddenly pierce my back, demanding to know who I am and why I’m there, but it never comes.

I walk down the street on shaking legs and take the first turn I come to, because I know that any moment, Sheik and Link will come out of the castle. I work my way over to the open-air market and let myself be absorbed into the crowd. I breathe slowly as I shift towards one of the stalls, trying to slow my heart rate and force the flush from my face.

I step up to a vendor selling a variety of weapons and give him a smile, glad that the burly man doesn’t look at me strangely. He has a lot of wares. Shields lean up against his stall on the ground, and there are swords with leather bound hilts, both long and short. Quivers hang on pegs on the poles that support the canopy, their curving, wooden bows nearby. A pair of identical daggers catch my eye. The blades are made from a slate-grey metal so dark that they flash black whenever the light hits them just right, and the hilts are made of both wire and dark brown leather.

I run a finger across one of the knives, the metal cold on my flesh.

“You like?” the vendor asks.

“They’re very nice,” I say awkwardly.

“There you are,” Sheik’s voice interrupts the burly man, and I turn around with forced slowness, my heart leaping momentarily. Sheik strides towards me alone, his white scarf pulled up over his face to block out the wind. “Did you find anything you like?”

“No,” I say.

Sheik cocks an eyebrow like he finds that hard to believe. “Come on, I’ll show you to our rooms.”

I follow him back towards the castle and fall in step beside him when we leave the crowd of hagglers. Sheik glances over at me and frowns. “What happened to your hands?”

“What?” I ask, puzzled.

Sheik seizes my wrist and yanks it towards him, and my heart almost stops at his touch. He uncurls my fingers, examining my palm. The skin there is red and peeling, bleeding, and my fingernails are torn, caked with grime.

“I fell.” I quickly pull my arm away.

Sheik’s eyes narrow. He tugs his scarf down and leans in as we walk, sniffing at me. I recoil, surprised. “Why do you smell of sweat and stone?”

“What are you talking about?” I demand, voice a little higher than I’d like. How good is his nose that he can smell all that on me?

“You followed us,” Sheik exclaims incredulously.

I groan inwardly. I was so close to being in the clear! “No, I didn’t!” I protest, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.

“I had no idea,” Sheik breathes, looking at me with new eyes. We start up the stairs, the guards nodding to us. “How did you do it? I’m not mad. I’m just…impressed.”

I turn red and glance at the ground. “There’s a tree around the side of the castle. I climbed it and went through a window at the top of the throne room. I hide on top of the statue, behind the Triforce.”

Sheik’s mouth actually drops open, and he’s speechless for a long time. Two more guards swing the front doors open to admit us, and we step inside the castle. The white-grey walls glimmer slightly in the firelight from the lamps that dot the hall, and a deep blue carpet covers the center of the floor. Occasionally, we walk by beautifully rendered paintings, scenes of rolling landscapes and shadowed forests, portraits of royalty long dead, a few of them staring down at us disdainfully.

A couple of times, I open my mouth, but I come up blank, and I go back to staring at the floor wondering what my fate will be.

We weave through the corridors to the back of the castle, and Sheik comes to a halt before a dark, wooden door. He doesn’t open it right away, though. Instead, he turns to regard me seriously.

“I was going to send you home,” he says, and I nod.

“I know. You told me.”

“Somehow, you managed to sneak past me, and I was trained by the greatest sneak-master in the land. I underestimated you.”

I glow beneath his praise and rub at the back of my head. Now I’m the one who’s speechless, more concerned with calming the flames in my face.

“You already heard what our mission is,” Sheik says, smirking a little. “I bet your sneaking skills will come in handy in the forest. Will you join us?”

I find that there’s a giant lump in my throat, and my words can’t wiggle around it. I nod quickly, before Sheik can change his mind, and he claps me on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “Welcome to the team.”

I smile up at him, lightweight wings sprouting in my chest. This is the first time I’ve ever been accepted into a group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on the chapter or the story in general!


	7. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long - college has been pretty busy, and I was also writing a 10,000 word chapter in my Superwolf fic (if you like that crossover, you should check it out). 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! They mean a lot to me. When you go to a liberal arts college like I do, where everyone is so talented and so creative, it's easy to begin to feel a little bit inadequate. It's incredibly heartening to receive such encouraging feedback from all of you.
> 
> Unfortunately, this may be the last chapter until December. I'm participating in Nanowrimo in November - going to be writing about Lesbian Space Thieves. I may get another chapter finished before the end of this month, but if I don't, please forgive me!

Chapter Six: 

Training

Smiling in a way that makes my legs want to turn to jelly, Sheik opens the door to his rooms and gestures for me to go inside first. I don’t know why I’m so hesitant, so nervous, but there are ants crawling along my stomach and up my throat, threatening to choke me or come spilling out my mouth.

Delicately, like I’m afraid to break something, I step into the room. My snow and mud caked boots look sacrilegious against the clean stone floor, so I stoop and unlace them, setting them neatly beside the door. When I straighten, Sheik is rolling his eyes.

I look around the room. It’s a large, circular space, the center dominated by a deep blue rug and a set of armchairs, all draped in furs. A fire crackles in the far wall, and Tall Link has dragged one of the chairs over to sit beside it. Two wooden doors flank the hearth.

Tall Link turns when he hears us enter, and he smiles at me tiredly, the green clothes nowhere in sight. Sheik gestures for me to sit, so I push a chair over to join Tall Link. I’ve realized suddenly that I can’t feel any of my toes. I prop my feet up on a low stool and scoot them as close to the fire as they can get without burning. Instantly, warmth floods back, and a tingling sensation spreads all the way to my heels.

Sheik props himself up against the wall. “Sleepy Link is going to join us,” he says to Tall Link.

“He is?” Tall Link glances at me. “I thought you were adamant about sending him home.”

“That was before he eavesdropped on our meeting by climbing in through the roof,” Sheik explains, and Tall Link’s mouth drops open.

“He _what_?”

I squirm down into my chair, and stare at my hands, uncomfortable with how much attention I’m getting.

“How is that possible?” Tall Link wonders. “The castle is huge!”

I open my mouth to explain how it wasn’t really that difficult, but for a moment I forget how to talk.

“We’ll rest tonight and tomorrow.” Sheik rescues me from the scrutiny. “And then I want to start training the two of you.”

“What kind of training?” Tall Link asks. He finally shrugs and looks away from me.

“Combat, mostly.”

I cringe, because we all know how well I did in our last fight.

“Your things have been brought up and put in that room.” Sheik points at the door to our right. “Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tall Link and I rise, walking with slumped shoulders to the other room which is smaller and more cozy than the other. A round carpet, thick and soft, takes up most of the floor, and tapestries in mellow tones hang from the walls. There are two narrow beds covered in blankets and thick furs pushed up against the back wall. My pack, cloak, and Rusl’s sword lie on one, and I move everything to the floor.

My fingers linger on the hilt of the sword. Sheik expects me to use this. To swing it and stab it. It seems too big, too heavy, too much for me. I pull my hand away like it’s been burned.

Tall Link begins stripping his shirt and shoes off, so I do the same. The fabric is cold against my face, caked with days of fear-sweat and snow. I fall over into the bed, sinking into the plush furs and mattress. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. There are no lumps to punch out, the fabric is silky rather than scratchy, and the blankets are all of uniform thickness, unworn.

I burrow underneath the furs as deeply as I can, the tips of my hair the only things showing on the pillow. My limbs turn to stone, and the heavy sound of Tall Link’s breathing lulls me to sleep.

* * *

 

I don’t know where I am when I wake up the next morning. I suspect that I’m dreaming, because I wouldn’t find such soft luxury anywhere else. I crack my eyes open to find sunlight streaming in through the glass covered windows, and the fur blanket tickles my nose, making me sneeze.

“Sleepy Link? Are you awake?”

I raise my head just far enough to see Tall Link sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling a white linen shirt that I’ve never seen before over his head. His back muscles ripple beneath tan skin.

“Sort of,” I mumble.

“Sheik came in and said that there’s breakfast waiting in the sitting room, and when we’re done, he’ll take us to the baths below the castle.”

At the mention of food, my stomach awakens fully and begins to protest loudly and incessantly that it be fed right this instant.

I shove the blanket off and roll out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the carpet. I stand and stretch, and every single joint in my body pops.

“And here’s a clean shirt.” Tall Link tosses a white bundle my way, and it unravels into a long sleeve shirt that matches his. When I pull it on, the sleeves fall well past the tips of my fingers, and the V-shaped neckline plunges down my ribcage.

“Oh, come on, they didn’t have a smaller one?” I complain.

Tall Link shrugs. “Fits me.”

“Yes, because you are twice my size.”

He shrugs again and leads the way out of the bedroom. My hunger grows to a whole new height. Spread out across the low table is an array of breakfast foods vaster than any I’ve seen before. There are breads, some flaky, some dense, some white as snow, and others dark brown and filled with seeds. There are multi-colored jars of jams and jellies, freshly churned butter, and fruits in every shape, size, and color. I see a platter of cured meats, thinly sliced, and beside it, a large chunk of cheese to be broken into pieces, and last but not least, there are several pitchers filled with water or creamy milk.

I drop into a chair and grab one of the wooden plates, heaping as much food as possible onto it. Then I settle back and fold my legs under me. “Where’s Sheik?” I ask around a mouthful of bread and strawberry jam.

“He said he had to run an errand and he’d be back soon.” Tall Link’s plate is as full as mine, to the point that every time he shifts, the top bit of food threatens to tumble into his lap.

We eat in silence. I haven’t had a proper meal since we left Ordon Village, and I need to make up for that by shoving as much food down my throat as I can. I’m not about to pause in that endeavor to say something.

I eat two heaping platefuls, and Tall Link eats three, yet we still barely make a dent in the spread. Sheik enters the room when we’re both slumped over in our chairs, hands on our overly-stretched stomachs. I feel like I might vomit or explode from the inside.

“Sleep well?” Sheik asks.

I crack an eye open, nodding. Sheik has changed out of his blue traveling garb, and now he wears a loose pair of leggings, the ends tucked into his boots, and a shirt that’s the same cut as mine but black. His long, blonde hair is still braided, and the tail falls over his shoulder, trailing down the side of his chest. The black of his clothes accents his deeply tanned skin and the gold of his hair. I have never seen someone so beautiful, and I turn a little red as the thought crosses my mind.

“Are you both done eating?” he asks.

“Yes. It was delicious,” Tall Link answers.

“I’ll show you to the baths, then.”

Sheik beckons for us to stand, and we follow him out the door, pausing just long enough to put our boots on. The hallways of the castle as Sheik leads us down several floors are a maze. No corridor goes in a straight line for very long before branching off in one or more direction. Sheik never hesitates, though. We go down narrow, dimly lit staircases as well as ones with carpeting thick enough to sleep on and wide enough to allow a carriage to pass. Some of the hallways we walk are obviously servants’ quarters, simple but clean and dotted with flowers cut fresh from the garden. Others are more lavish, with intricate paintings hanging from the walls beside golden candleholders.

We pass the kitchens, and despite having just eaten breakfast, my mouth begins to water. They’re cooking some kind of meat, and its aroma fills the surrounding corridors, accompanied by the delicate scent of baking bread.

“This place is huge,” Tall Link says as we start down another staircase.

“It’s been renovated and expanded so many times since it was first built,” Sheik explains. “Honestly, no one really knows where every single passage goes except maybe Princess Zelda.”

“Are we almost there?” I ask. It feels like we’ve been walking forever, and all the food in my stomach is making me nauseous.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sheik stops and pushes a simple wooden door open. “Actually, we are.”

A cloud of steam billows out and envelops us, smelling of mint and rosemary. I step into the warm room, squinting a little to see through the white mist. There are three circular pools, arranged in a triangle, and each has an assortment of bottles and dishes lying beside it. Along the walls are benches for our clothes and shelves full of plump, white towels.

As Sheik walks across the room towards the benches, he begins to pull his shirt off. I stare. White scars crisscross his back, and a long-healed burn starts at his spine and wraps around one side of his lower back. The scars stretch and dance as he moves. Sheik turns around, and I can’t stop my eyes from travelling down the length of his front. I’ve never seen such definition on another person. It’s as if he’s been cut from stone. He has a black tattoo on the right side of his chest – the same eye and tear symbol as on his tunic – and the fingers of the burn creep along his stomach.

“Well, come on,” he says.

And then he starts to take off his pants.

I drop my gaze to the ground, praying that neither of them will see the way my face is heating up. I hear him walk across the floor, and his bare calves pass through my line of sight. Tall Link doesn’t seem perturbed or uncomfortable. He strips down quickly, and there are two small splashes as he and Sheik slide into the center pool.

“Are you going to stand there all day, Sleepy Link?” Sheik calls.

I jump. “Yes – uh – no!” I stutter and kick myself. Way to be subtle, Link. Good work.

I hurriedly pull off my clothes and drop them on the bench. I keep my eyes pinned on the ground as I cross to the pool. Please, Din, don’t let them be watching me. I’m suddenly self-conscious in a way I’ve never been before. I’m in shape – you have to be to work on a farm – but I’m not muscled like Tall Link and Sheik are. My arms look soft in comparison to theirs, and Tall Link’s shoulders are broad enough to swallow two of me.

Face red with shame and embarrassment, I slip into the pool. The water is murky with soap, and steam rises up from little clouds of bubbles to shroud my head. At least now I can blame my redness on the heat.

Sheik pulls his arms up and rests them on the lip of the pool. Beads of water roll down his skin, over the swell of his muscles. I flick my gaze to him and away again, to and away. On the fourth flick, he catches my eyes and smirks, lifting one eyebrow. After that, I stare at the swirling water.

Tall Link glides over to investigate the bottles and dishes. He lifts a few to his nose and nods absentmindedly before selecting a bar of red and white swirled soap. “It smells like cinnamon,” he sais, returning to his seat with it.

Curiosity winning out over my need to remain hidden, I drift of to the spot he’d just vacated. Sheik arrives at the same time, and our arms bump. His skin is hot and slick and hard, and I pull away like I’ve been shocked, wishing…I don’t even know what I wish.

I’ve forgotten what I’m doing. I watch dumbly as Sheik picks out a glass bottle filled with a green gel. “I’d recommend that one. It’s citrus.”

“What?”

Sheik sets a different bottle in my hands and moves away. I blink down at it. It’s a little under half full, the soap tinged orange. I uncork it as I sit back down, the sharp scent of oranges rising up to greet me. I pour some into my hands, watching how it oozes, and begin to rub it on my arms. The soap has little grainy bits in it that scrub at my skin, pulling up layers of dirt.

“Will you get my back, Sleepy Link?” Sheik asks.

My head jerks up, my eyes bugging out. “Huh?”

“Will you help me wash my back?” he repeats.

I feel as if I’ve detached from my body. “Sure,” I say, hesitant. I cross to his side of the pool, and he hands me his soap, turning around so his back faces me. Feeling dazed, I let some of the gel ooze into my hand.

My fingers touch his back without me moving them. His skin is hotter than a furnace, and I look down at my hands, expecting the tips to be burnt down to the bone. I rub the soap up and down the smooth plane of his back, the scars barely creating bumps, his spine knobby.

“Thanks,” he says, too soon, and I reluctantly pull away, my hands covered in suds. I drop them into the water and watch the filmy substance drift away.

“Do you want me to get yours?”

I forget how to breathe as I stare at him with wide eyes. It seems my throat has stopped working. Sheik plucks the bottle from my numb fingers and spins me around. Then his hot, hot hands are on my back, and the heat of them is spreading through every single part of my body, and I’m suddenly _so_ glad that the water is murky. I’d never known that the touch of another person could feel so amazing.

Eventually, the contact ends. Sheik traces one last, lingering line across my shoulders and says, “Okay, all done.”

“Uh, thanks.” I stagger back to the other side of the pool, and a few minutes later, we all climb out. The thick towels quickly sponge the water from my limbs, and I get dressed with my eyes fixed firmly on the walls.

Then Sheik takes us back to his rooms and leaves us there. There’s something evil in the smile he gives us. “Rest up. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.”

He isn’t kidding.

The next morning, I awake to something hard slamming into my midriff like a cannonball. Terrified, breathless, my eyes snap open to find a black masked face with red eyes leering down at me. Moving on instinct, I shoot a hand up, two fingers extended and aiming for the eyes, but they just bat my attack away with the casual flick of their wrist.

“You’ve got to be ready for anything,” Sheik’s voice says, low and gravelly.

He climbs off me, and I sit up, gasping for air. “What the hell?” I manage to groan. Across the room, another masked assailant is rolling off of Tall Link.

Sheik rips the blankets away from me. “Your training starts now. Get up.”

“What time is it?”

“Much earlier than you would like.” Sheik seizes my arm and drags me bodily to the floor. “Up, up, up. Here are your shirt, pants, and shoes.” As he lists them, each item hits me in the chest and falls to the floor. Tall Link seems to be in a similar state of bleary confusion. “If you don’t start getting dressed right now, I will hit you again,” Sheik threatens, a scary amount of merriment in his voice.

I still can’t breathe properly from the first time he hit me, so I bend down and obediently begin to pull my clothes on.

Sheik finally takes his mask off, revealing a grinning face, then he gestures to the masked stranger. “This is my friend, Ashei.”

The stranger pulls her demonic mask off, shaking out her shining black hair. Short bangs sweep across her pale forehead, and two pigtails tumble down her shoulders. Her smirk makes her brown eyes twinkle, and she props one hand on her hip. Tall Link looks mortified when he realizes that he’s in his underclothes.

Ashei winks at him. “Nice to meet you. Sheik, I’m going to go change into my armor. I’ll meet you out on the training ground.”

“Is there breakfast?” I ask as Ashei leaves, her hips swaying.

Sheik simply starts laughing and hands me Rusl’s sword. I take that for a no.

Sheik ushers us out of the room even though Tall Link is still pulling his pants on and appears to only have one boot, the strap of his sword sheath hanging crookedly over his shoulder. The hallways are empty and drafty, and the first window we pass shows us a dark grey sky.

“The sun isn’t even up yet!” I protest.

“Monsters aren’t going to wait for you to wake up.”

“Rude,” I mumble.

The cold winter wind hits me like a fully grown ox as we step out the door, and I shiver violently, stuffing my hands under my armpits. “It’s too cold for this,” I say.

“Someone’s mouthy this morning,” Sheik replies. He practically skips down the steps.

“My mother wanted to call me Mouthy Link.”

We trudge around to the back of the castle. On either side of the narrow path, the snow is piled knee high. A giant field opens up in front of us. Half of it has been cleared of snow and has simple wooden effigies of soldiers dotted through a corner. Further away, there’s a row of circular targets, and there’s a strange contraption made of what looks like a studded climbing wall and a mess of ropes.

“Come on,” Sheik says.

Ashei appears from a door as we start across the tamped dirt. She’s changed out of her sneak-attack blacks and now wears a pair of red pants and a blue sweater. On top of that is the oddest assortment of armor I’ve ever seen.

Bronze greaves cover her legs from the knees down, connecting to matching boots, and an engraved metal corset wraps around her midriff. Her sword arm is encased in a large spaulder, and a strange, circular device marches down her forearm, thickest just below her elbow and narrowing towards the wrist. Her gauntlet has red etchings just like the rest of her armor, and her other arm bears the same kind of covering, all except for the spaulder on the shoulder. A long, thin sword hangs from her waist.

She meets us beside the wooden soldiers, and stands with her hands clasped behind her back. Tall Link and I stop awkwardly and bump shoulders as we shuffle our feet. I’m still holding Rusl’s sword in my arms like it will bite me.

“Have either of you used a sword before?” Sheik asks.

“Rusl showed me a few basics,” Tall Link says as I shake my head.

“Draw them. We’ll start with the basics.”

I wrap my fingers around the cold hilt of Rusl’s sword. The metal digs painfully into my palm, as I slowly pull the blade from the scabbard. When the weight of the weapon falls fully into one hand, the point drops towards the ground, twisting my fingers, and I grab it with my other hand as well, struggling to pull it up before it touches the snow. Tall Link holds his sword easily, inscribing tiny circles in the air.

“You only need one hand for that sword, Sleepy Link,” Sheik says.

I shake my head.

Sheik takes my hands and rearranges one of them so it grips the hilt correctly and pushes the other one down to my side. I almost slice his stomach open when my wrist wobbles, and Sheik frowns. “Ashei, work with Tall Link, will you?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I take the sword in two hands again.

“You just need to get used to it. Don’t be scared of it.”

Sheik pulls my second hand away again, and this time the sword stays raised, though the point shakes. “Stand like this.” Sheik sinks into a stance with one foot forward and his knees bent. I copy him all my attention focused on keeping the blade level. “Keep your wrist light and flexible. That will make it easier to swing the sword.”

“If I do that, I’ll drop it,” I say through gritted teeth. My whole arm feels like a bar of iron, rigid and immovable.

“Take a swing. You’ll see what I mean.”

Sheik takes several steps back to give me room. Moving my arm as one unit, I pull the sword to the side and try to swing it in a wide arc. The weight and momentum spin me around, and the hilt flies from my hand, but I can’t see where it goes as I crash to the ground, my hip slamming into the frozen earth.

“Are you okay?” Sheik asks. There’s a hidden note of laughter in his voice.

“No,” I groan.

Sheik’s strong hands grab my arms and heave me upright, supporting me until my legs remember how to bear my weight. He stares at me for a long time, and I shift uncomfortably, grinding the toe of my boot into the dirt. “I don’t think the sword is your weapon,” he says finally.

“Great, so what should I use to defend myself? A spoon?”

“No. Wait here.” Sheik claps me on the shoulder and hurries away, disappearing into the castle.

I cross my arms and kick at a rock, but it’s iced over, and all I do is stub my toe. Ashei is coaching Tall Link over at one of the mock soldiers. She calls out directions to him, and Tall Link’s sword flicks out like the tongue of a snack, striking the straw covered wood and bouncing off while he moves lightly on his feet.

I scowl. Of course he’s perfect at sword fighting. He’s perfect at everything else, too. I’ve never been good at a single thing in my entire life.

Tall Link hops back and then leaps forward, sword held high as he flies through the air. The blade slices through the bucket that tops the mock soldier in two, and he lands in a neat crouch. Ashei claps, but my scowl intensifies.

“Okay, I’m back.” Sheik’s voice by my shoulder makes me jump, and I spin around.

He holds a pair of daggers out to me. The blades are about the length of my forearm, and the hilts are wrapped in a layer of worn leather. “These are my old knives,” Sheik explains. “If they work for you, we’ll get you your own pair before we leave.”

I reach for the weapons hesitantly. I’m terrified they’ll feel just as unnatural as Rusl’s sword. My fingers slide around the grips, falling into the grooves that are already there, and I lift the daggers. They feel light as air, like they were meant to be in my hands. I look up at Sheik with wide eyes.

“Feel right?” he says, and I nod.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to use them.”

Sheik spends the next few hours showing me the best ways to slash and stab, how to reverse my grip to thrust from different angles, and how to block. He has me attack a mock soldier until my strikes land in the right place three times out of five. I feel the same way I do when I climb; light and free.

When the sun has risen fully, Sheik calls a stop, and I let my aching arms drop. It’s a good kind of ache, though. It proves that I’ve done something.

We tramp into the kitchens for a quick breakfast. The cook glares at us and warns us to keep out of her way and keep our filth off her counters, but she still supplies us with some bread, cheese, and ham.

Then it’s back out into the cold morning. Sheik stops by a small armory and hands Tall Link a simple wooden shield with the royal crest burned into it. “Teach him to use that,” he tells Ashei as we separate, and he leads me across the training field towards the strange climbing wall. “Knife fighting isn’t just about knowing how to swing a blade. You need to be fast and agile. Most of the opponents you’ll face will have a sword or axe, so they’ll have a superior reach. You need to be able to get inside that. Luckily, you’re pretty small, so you’ll be able to use that to your advantage.”

We stop before the wall, and its shadow blankets us. It’s actually three walls, connected at the corners like a box and covered in dangling ropes, rope bridges, and rope ladders, and wooden ledges jut out of the wall at all sorts of odd angles.

“See how fast you can climb it,” Sheik says.

My eyes narrow. It seems too easy. There are plenty of hand and foot holds; I’ll be at the top in a minute. There has to be a catch.

Sheik gestures for me to start, his smile giving nothing away.

I run at the wall and propel myself upwards, hand catching on a ledge that I use as a spring board to grab the end of a dangling rope. I clamber up it hand over hand, my eyes already picking out the next three jumps I’ll make. Halfway to the top, I’m dangling from another ledge, about to haul myself up, when something hard hits me in the back. One hand slips in surprise, and I flail wildly until it slaps back down onto the wood, and I heave myself up, rolling onto the ledge.

“What the hell was that?” I demand, looking down at Sheik.

He bounces a rock up and down in his hand. “You have to be ready for anything.”

And then he chucks it at my head.

I jerk to the side, rolling off my perch and onto one of the rope bridges. I curl into a ball and let myself fall through an open square, landing on the ledge right below.

“You’re insane!” I yell as I’m forced to leap to the perpendicular wall in order to avoid a second stone. I cling like a spider to two bulbous hand holds and lunge upwards, my ears straining for the faint sound of a whistling rock.

I spin to the side before one can hit my arm and leap off a ledge, grabbing one of the dangling ropes and swinging all the way to the other side of the structure. Three more rocks whizz by me. I scramble upwards as quickly as I can. Maybe if I can reach the top, the barrage will stop.

The higher I climb, the more intense Sheik’s attacks become, until I’m trying to dodge three rocks at one time. I spin and leap and swing, never remaining in the same position for more than a moment. In the back of my mind, I’m amazed that I haven’t been hit yet.

With one last grunt, I’m crouched on top of the wall. I twist to face Sheik, fully prepared to laugh down at him because I’ve beaten his little game, when a rock slams into my chest and knocks me off. I shriek as I fall through the air, and then I crash into five feet of powdery snow. I wheeze, lying with white clumps covering half my face, my ribs aching like they’re broken.

Sheik’s footsteps crunch through the snow until they’re at my head. His red eyes appear above me, one eyebrow raised.

“I think you broke me,” I groan.

“I told you to be ready for anything.”

“You cheat.”

“There’s no such thing.”

He stretches out a hand, and my chest protest as I move to take it. Sheik helps me up, and I clap a hand to my ribs. “I’m going to have a huge bruise tomorrow.”

“Good.”

I stagger along behind him back towards the training ground. Ashei is trying to whack Tall Link over the head with a wooden sword as he holds the shield up to desperately defend himself.

“At least I don’t have to do that,” I say.

Sheik starts laughing.

The task master lets Tall Link and me take a short break, and then I have to go back to waving my knives around while Sheik yells at me all the things I’m doing wrong. By the time dinner rolls around, I can’t lift my arms more than a few inches.

Tall Link and I stuff ourselves full to bursting, though I’m so tired I barely taste all the succulent food. I tumble into bed before the sun has set, and the lights go out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

* * *

 

Thankfully, Sheik doesn’t wake me up with a sneak attack the next morning. He still yanks the blankets off, though, but he makes up for it by handing me a thick slice of bread slathered in butter and blackberry jam. I stuff it in my mouth as I pull my boots on, and then the three of us head back down to the training yard.

The cold isn’t as abrasive this morning. It’s still horrible, but I don’t feel like I’m about to die. Ashei steals Tall Link away as soon as she sees him, and Sheik leads me towards the circular targets.

“I’m going to teach you to throw the knives,” he says and draws one of his own daggers.

He explains the two ways of throwing it and then shows me how to properly hold the knife for each technique, by the hilt and by the tip of the blade. He demonstrates the smooth throwing motion, the dagger flying from his hand and burying itself in the target’s red center.

I whistle, impressed.

“You try.”

I poke my tongue out as I concentrate on copying him. The knife slips from my hand almost without me realizing it and tumbles through the air. It sinks a few inches into the straw right at the edge of the target.

“I hit it!” I yell excitedly.

“Good job. This is all you’re doing today.”

That sounds much better than having rocks thrown at my head.

I quickly fall into a rhythm, throwing both knives as best I can, then jogging over to the target to retrieve them. Sheik goes to help Ashei with Tall Link’s training but returns occasionally to check on my progress and give me a few pointers.

By lunchtime, I can hit the yellow circle on the target about two-thirds of the time, and by dinner, I’ve managed to land three throws in the red center.

“Look, look!” I yell, pointing so Sheik can see my accomplishment.

He grins as he walks over and claps me on the shoulder. “You’re a natural.”

I spend half the next day throwing my knives as well, but after lunch Sheik stops me before I can head back to the range. “Here.” He hands me two wooden knives that are weighted exactly the same as my real ones. “It’s time to try a mock battle.”

He scoops a thin wooden sword off the ground and falls into a defensive stance. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” I ask warily.

“Only a little.”

He waits for me to attack, but I hang back. Halfway through the third circle, Sheik grows tired of waiting, so he lunges forward, sword slicing, and I lock my knives into an X and catch his blade with it, my heart pounding.

He attacks again and again and again, driving me back across the frozen ground as I try frantically to defend myself. “Fight back!” he yells, aiming a particularly vicious stroke at my head. I leap back, the sword point inches from my nose, and then rush forward as instructed, stabbing with one of my daggers. He catches it easily, and I swing my other arm at him. He sways out of the way of that strike, too.

He lets me attack him three more times and even gives up a few feet of ground. Then the next time I block his sword with my crossed knives, he moves in until we’re chest to chest, our weapons between us. Sheik shoves mightily against me, and I lose my balance and crash to the ground.

“You’re dead,” Sheik says, pointing his sword at my throat.

He makes me get up and try again. A minute later, I’m on my butt again. When I look around, I see that Tall Link is also getting his ass handed to him by Ashei, though he isn’t on the ground yet.

I try attacking Sheik again.

And again.

And again.

I try coming at him from different angles. I try fighting defensively. I try attacking him wildly. I try simply throwing my daggers at him. I lose every single time.

Sheik lets me go back to throwing practice until dinner.

The next two weeks pass in much the same way. Tall Link gets better at a faster rate than me, but I improve, too, until I can hit the center circle on the target four out of the five times, and I even manage to land a few good hits when I fight with Sheik and Ashei.

And then Sheik tells us to take a couple days off, we’re leaving at the end of the week.

“Really?” I squeak. Suddenly, it’s too soon.

Tall Link nods. “I’m ready, I think.”

Sheik smiles at him and lets us go down to the baths to relax. My arms and chest are a black and blue mosaic, and the hot water feels absolutely divine. We spend the next two days relaxing while Sheik stockpiles supplies in the room.

The day before we’re set to go, a courtier from the princess knocks on the door. He bows when Sheik lets him in. “Princess Zelda requests your presence at dinner tonight,” he says.

“We’ll be there,” Sheik promises.

The courtier bows again and leaves.

Sheik gives Tall Link and me clothes to wear to dinner. Tall Link pulls on a forest green tunic with silver leaves embroidered around the collar and the cuffs over a pair of black pants, his boots shining and his hair combed neatly. Sheik finds me a navy blue tunic that actually fits, and it has gold thread worked into it. I try to tame my hair into some kind of order, but it’s thick and unwieldy and refuses to lie flat.

Sheik comes out of his bedroom in a garb much like his traveling clothes. The eye symbol is on his chest, outlined in red thread. Black silk is wrapped around his forearms and over his hands, looped around his thumbs. A white scarf curls around his neck and trails down his chest, small braided tassels hanging off the end.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“What’s the protocol for this?” I ask, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

“You’re introduced, you bow, you sit, then you make polite talk and try not to spill soup down your shirt.”

Oh Din, I really wish he hadn’t said that.

Sheik leads us towards the royal dining hall. He turns briefly to make sure we’re both properly primped and then nods for the page to announce us. The young boy steps through the door and clears his throat. “Introducing Sheik, ambassador to the royal family, Link of Ordon Village, and…Link of Ordon Village.”

We sweep inside, and Princess Zelda stands up from the table, wearing a dark purple dress. She frowns a little, puzzled. “Did your Link multiply? When I first saw you, there was one, and now there are two.”

“There were always two,” Sheik says. He indicates which chairs we should sit in as we move around the table. “This one,” he points to me, “wasn’t originally going to come, but then things changed.”

We all sit down, and I follow Tall Link’s lead as he puts his napkin in his lap. “And they’re both named Link?”

My mouth runs away before I can stop it. “It’s a tradition in Ordon.” I turn bright red immediately and drop my eyes to my plate. “Uh, Your Highness.”

“How do you tell each other apart?” the princess asks, motioning for the waiters to start serving.

I glance around, but everyone seems to expect me to answer. “We have descriptive names, too. Your Highness.”

“You don’t need to say Your Highness every time,” Princess Zelda assures me. “What do I call you both?”

“He’s Tall Link, and I’m…” Din, I really don’t want to say it. “I’m Sleepy Link.”

Princess Zelda politely stifles her amused smile.

The waiters set dainty plates of salad down in front of us and pour red wine into the crystal glasses. I quickly start eating so I don’t have to talk anymore.

“How did you get that name?”

I choke on a spinach leaf.

“We’re leaving early tomorrow morning,” Sheik says, saving me. “Any advice?”

“Actually, I have something for you.” She reaches into her lap and pulls out a black pouch. She pours three green gemstones set in gold into her palm. “These are goddess stones. If you plant them in a triangle around your campsite, they should ward the Stalfos off.”

She tucks them back into the pouch and tosses it to Sheik. “Should?” he asks as he snatches it out of the air.

Princess Zelda shrugs. “They haven’t actually been tested.”

“Great, so we’re guinea pigs.” Sheik ties the pouch to his belt.

The main course arrives; cheese stuffed chicken breasts with tiny, baked potatoes, and Tall Link and I glance at each other before digging in. “Someone needs to be,” the princess says with a sly grin.

Sheik and Princess Zelda chat good-naturedly throughout the meal as Tall Link and I eat. Dessert is a giant chocolate cake with thick frosting and ruby red raspberries. When the final plates are cleared, we follow Sheik’s lead and stand up, bowing to Princess Zelda. She inclines her head in response. “I’ll see you off in the morning,” she says.

“Thank you for the meal,” Sheik says.

Back in our room, we all make sure that our packs are ready and our weapons are oiled. I fold my fancy clothes up and stack them on the bedside table, running my finger across the soft fabric. I’ve never worn such nice things.

“Sleepy Link.” Sheik walks up to me, a leather bundle in his hands. “Here. These are for you.”

“Oh?” I take the gift and unwrap it. The grey and black daggers from the market vendor lie in my hands, not even glinting in the firelight. “Wow. Sheik, thank you. These are beautiful.”

“They’re good blades. They’ll serve you well.”

Sheik turns a little abruptly and heads for his room. Just before he walks through the door, he pauses and looks back at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes. I stare down at my new daggers, smiling, and then replace the practice knives in my belt.

Tall Link runs his hand through his hair and gets into bed. “We’d better get some sleep,” he says. “Big day tomorrow.”

I nod in agreement and crawl under the covers. I don’t sleep.


	8. The Journey Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, dear readers. Here's a new chapter for you.

Chapter Seven

The Journey Begins

Tall Link comes out of the bedroom dressed in the green Hero’s Tunic and looking self-conscious, though he has no reason to be. The dark green shirt fits like it was made for him, and the chainmail that peeps out from beneath the sleeves glints in the firelight. He wears leather bracers on his arms and fingerless gloves broken-in to perfection. I’m not entirely sure how the long, pointed hat is going to stay on his head during battle, but for now, it sits atop his golden hair, the tip trailing over his shoulder.

Sheik whistles, and Tall Link turns red.

My own shirt still doesn’t fit properly. Sheik gave me one of his black tunics, but I have to cinch it around the waist to keep it from acting like a balloon, and I have to roll the cuffs up twice or else they’ll obscure my hands. I feel like a child playing dress-up in his father’s clothing.

“We’re going to leave Castle Town as quietly as we can,” Sheik says.

“Shouldn’t people see Tall Link so that they can know the Hero Chosen by the Gods has returned?” I ask. “It will give them hope.”

Sheik shakes his head. “If the people know, then our enemies will find out, and we need the element of surprise on our side.”

I nod in agreement and wrap my cloak around my shoulders, following Sheik’s lead as he puts his hood up. Our boots make no sound as we descend through the castle to the stables. There is no one inside. The hour is too early for even the stable hands to be awake, so we saddle our horses and lead them out into the gently falling snow.

The city is empty and silent, and the snow smothers the sound of our footsteps. I pull my hood tighter to warm my ears, and after about ten minutes, the bridge out of the city looms up before us, its edges made fuzzy by the darkness and the snow. As we draw closer, a cloaked figure appears and approaches us. They lower their hood, revealing Princess Zelda’s face. Sheik Tall Link, and I rein up in front of her.

“Princess,” Sheik says, bowing her head.

“I thought I would come see you off,” the princess says. “And to thank you one last time for doing this.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Sheik says with a confident grin. I wonder if he actually feels that way, or if it’s all just an act. I don’t feel confident. I just feel queasy.

Princess Zelda smiles, but I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe it. She nods and steps back, allowing us to pass by and continue on towards the raised drawbridge. A guard with a torch steps forward, but Sheik passes her a scroll with the royal insignia on it. The guard nods and steps back to lower the bridge for us. It sinks towards the ground on creaky chains and locks into place with a thud, and we pass over the frozen river and onto Hyrule Field just as the sun touches the ground.

“So, we’re going all the way back the way we came?” Tall Link asks. He adjusts his hat for what’s probably the seventh time

“Pretty much,” Sheik says. “Though we won’t go all the way back to Ordon Village.”

As he says that, I realize that I don’t actually want to go back to my town. I feel no homesickness. None at all. I thought that I would, that I would be nauseous with it, but I’m not. It’s an odd feeling.

* * *

It takes us three days to cross Hyrule Field. We don’t take any chances getting caught out in the dark, and we don’t run into any bandits this time. Every night, Sheik tells us to take out our weapons and trains us for a few hours. Rations are small, because we’re not sure how long we’ll be out here. The food is meagre and a little depressing after the feasts we got to gorge ourselves on at Hyrule Castle. We spend our last night on the plain in the same cabin at the edge of the forest that we slept in on the first night, and for the first time, I don’t have nightmares. I don’t see Rusl. I don’t see blood. I don’t see any skeletal monsters. It could just be that I’m dead tired, but I hope they’re gone for good.

Sheik wakes us up bright and early the next morning. I’m starting to hate that cheery grin he gives me, because it means he’s about to rip my covers away.

“Touch my cloak, and I’ll stab you in the head,” I grumble, hand reaching across the floor to wrap around the hilt of my knife.

Sheik backs off, smirking.

I sit up and tumble off my bed roll. It hasn’t gotten any easier to wake up this early in the morning, and my pack is a little fuzzy before my eyes. After a small breakfast, we clean up the shack and step out into the cold morning. I stare at the dim, snow covered forest. It looks menacing. Like something hungry.

Sheik swings into his saddle as if he didn’t just spend three nights sleeping on the ground. When I mount my horse, my tendons feel like they’re made of glass. Sheik leads the way, and I fall into place at the back of the line.

The nerves are back. My stomach hurts. My throat is hard. There’s a vague throb in my head. I take a deep breath, expanding my chest as wide as I can. The frigid air races through my veins and clears out the murky waters. We step one by one into the trees, and the shadows fall over our heads. I shiver as the wind blows. We follow the path that leads to Ordon Village for a while until it branches off in two directions. One trail leads home, and the other is blocked by a rusty gate. Dead, dried vines crawl up the metal posts.

Sheik pulls his horse to a stop and looks at the gate. A dark, gaping cave mouth eats up the ground beyond the bars. “Do you have a key?” Tall Link asks.

“Nope,” Sheik says.

Tall Link glances back at me and raises an eyebrow. “Then how are you going to open it?”

Sheik jumps down, sinking into the snow up to his knees. He trudges up to the gate, lifts one booted foot into the air, and kicks the door open. The rusty hinges break with a shriek, and the entire thing flies backwards, landing in a snowdrift with a white explosion.

“That works.” Tall Link gives me another look.

Sheik waves us through and then props the door back into place behind us. Tall Link and I stare into the black cave. It seems like its sucking all of the air around us into its depths. Sheik climbs back into the saddle, but when the horses step into the cave’s shadow, they balk and paw at the earth, refusing to go any further. Sheik taps his heels into his horse’s sides, but it’s no good.

I shake Lightning Strike’s reins, and Tall Link clicks his tongue at Epona, but the horses whinny in protest, shaking their heads. “Well, this is a very reassuring sign,” I say.

Sheik gives me a look that says he doesn’t need my lip right now.

One by one, we dismount and grab our horses’ reins, tugging as we step into the dark cave. Reluctantly, the animals follow. There’s a flash of sparks, and then Sheik holds up a torch. The cave is actually a tunnel, though it curves at the edge of the flames’ reach, and I can’t see how far it goes. The walls are jagged and uneven, and covered in dead moss. There’s no snow on the stone ground, just a few patches of dried up grass. The wind whispers and rustles along the length of the tunnel, and it almost sounds like voices.

“Something nasty is going to jump out at us when we turn that corner, isn’t it?” I say, staring into the darkness beyond the light of Sheik’s torch.

Sheik glances at me. “Why do you say that?”

“Because that’s what always happens,” I explain. “It’s a classic move.”

“Nothing is going to jump out. I promise.” Sheik smiles at me and walks forward, leading his horse. Tall Link and I have no choice but to follow. I cringe as we round the corner, but the torchlight reveals nothing monstrous. Just more tunnel. Sheik turns around, hand on his hip, and gives me a smug smirk. “See, I told you.”

Just as the last syllable leaves his mouth, a dark shadow lunges down from the ceiling, aimed right at Sheik’s head. My eyes widen, and I raise my hand, but Sheik doesn’t need my warning. He drops to the ground as the dark shadow opens its mouth and snaps its teeth. Sheik cries out in pain, and the torch falls from his hand, spraying sparks. His horse neighs in alarm, pulling its reins free of his grip, but I catch the animal before it can run off.

Tall Link leaps forward and grabs Sheik’s arm, yanking him away from the beast that hangs from the ceiling. The firelight reaches just high enough to reveal the creature, and my heart stops for a moment

It’s some kind of monstrous plant. Its head is a giant, dark blue and purple bulb that hangs from a thick, thorny vine attached to the ceiling of the tunnel. Then the bulb splits open, revealing two rows of jagged teeth and a wide, splotchy tongue.

Sheik groans, still sitting on the ground by Tall Link’s feet, and presses one hand against his shoulder. Before long, red blood oozes between his fingers. “What is that?” I ask, gripping one of my knives.

“A Deku Baba.” Sheik winces. “Nasty things. They’re a mutation of an ancient plant that fed on flies. Dark magic made them grow and become vicious, made them crave warm blood. He takes his hand away from his shoulder and grimaces when he sees the wound. Three deep gashes mar his skin, seeping blood. Small black lines are already starting to inch away from the cuts.

“How do we kill it?” Tall Link asks as the Deku Baba sways back and forth, teeth gnashing.

“Destroy the head,” Sheik says.

Tall Link draws his sword, a determined look on his face. The Deku Baba hisses at him and snaps its head forward. Tall Link jerks back, the teeth closing an inch from his nose. Then the plant pulls back, and Tall Link swings his sword just as it opens its mouth again. The blade cuts the bulb in two, and the bottom half falls to the ground in a shower of purple liquid. The top half hangs, motionless, from its vine, dripping.

“Help me up,” Sheik says to me. I reach out a hand and pull him upright. He grunts in pain, still clutching his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“I’ll be fine,” he promises.

Tall Link retrieves the fallen torch, and we keep moving, tugging at our horses’ reins, our heads ducked just in case anything else falls from the ceiling. The tunnel twists like a snake across the ground, and we find ourselves encased in darkness. The torch light is a paltry comfort.

“How far does this go?” I wonder. My voice echoes up and down the tunnel.

“I’m not sure,” Sheik says. “I’ve never been to the Lost Woods. Legend says it’s impossible to reach the woods in any other way than this tunnel. If you try, you’ll just end up back where you started.”

The torchlight falls on a white, filmy substance that coats the walls and hangs off the ceiling. I stretch out a hand and run my finger through a patch, and the substance sticks to me. I wave my hand around, but it won’t come loose. “Spider webs,” I say, and my eyes bulge. How big would a spider have to be to make web this thick?

Tall Link shivers, and the torchlight dances. “I really don’t like spiders.”

“Let’s get a move on,” Sheik suggests. Even he sounds a little nervous.

It seems like a good plan to me. We walk quickly down the tunnel, and I draw one of my daggers, the weight comforting in my hand. The spider webs grow thicker until they completely obscure the walls and ceiling. They crawl under foot, sticking to our boots and threatening to pull us to a stop. Then the tunnel splits. One branch shoots off at a right angle while the other continues on straight ahead. The mouth of the tunnel to our right is blocked by thick spider webs.

“I say we go straight,” Tall Link says, swallowing nervously as he stares at the sticky white mess.

“Unless that’s exactly what the spider wants us to do,” I point out.

Tall Link turns his head to look at me. “What?”

“It could be a trap. Think about it. The spider blocks off this tunnel, knowing that we’ll assume its lair is back there and so we’ll choose to go straight. Then it waits out of sight up ahead. Since we think we’re safe, we won’t be expecting an attack, and it will be able to surprise us.” I shrug and rub at the back of my neck when I realize they’re both staring at me. “At least, that’s what I would do.”

“So which way do we go?” Tall Link asks, returning his attention to Sheik.

Sheik shrugs. “I’m not sure. Does anyone have a coin?”

Tall Link and I stare at him in shock. “You…want to decide based on a coin toss?” I ask.

“No, of course not. That was a joke.”

“Sometimes it’s very hard to tell when you’re joking,” Tall Link tells him, and Sheik laughs.

“Let’s go straight,” he says, pointing his good arm down the tunnel. “It doesn’t make sense that the path would turn so sharply.”

Tall Link and I nod, and the three of us set off down the tunnel again, leading our horses behind us. I’m still not convinced that there’s won’t a giant spider lying in wait. Tall Link takes the lead, and I let him as Sheik continues to lean on my shoulder. After a while, the spider webs begin to taper off, and then they disappear entirely, and the tunnel grows lighter, and the lighter it becomes, the lighter my heart feels. Then we step out of the tunnel and into a thick, thick forest.

“Woah,” Tall Link asks, and my mouth falls open in agreement.

This is a very different forest from the one on the other side of the tunnel. The trees are taller and thicker and older, and their sweeping branches still have all of their leaves. There’s no snow on the ground, though it’s still bitterly cold, and prickly grass waves around our feet. The forest is dark and shadowy, and the leaves sound like singing voices as they rustle in the wind. I shiver and rub at my arms. “I don’t like this place.”

Sheik curses as he looks up at the sky. “The leaves are too thick. I can’t tell how high the sun is.”

“How are when going to know when it’s night?” Tall Link asks. I shudder at the thought of stumbling across one of those monsters.

Sheik shrugs helpfully.

“Do we know where we’re going?” I ask, looking around the vast, trackless forest. The wind blows, and the leaves rustle, and the trees disappear into shadow. “Do you have a map or something?”

“There aren’t any maps of the Lost Woods,” Sheik says. “People don’t tend to make it out alive.”

“That’s just great,” I sigh.

“We might as well just go straight,” Sheik continues, ignoring me. “One direction is as good as any other.”

I help Sheik climb onto his horse, and then we set off at a fast walk, heading towards what we hope is the heart of the forest where our answers lie.


	9. The Lost Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so slow at updating. This isn't my only main fic, and I'm working on a novel, and a new semester started at the beginning of the week. But here's a new chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. Remember, I love to hear your thoughts about the story, so please leave a comment!

Chapter Eight

The Lost Woods

Sheik sways in his saddle, but every time Tall Link or I look at him, he makes sure to pull himself upright and stiffens his spine. His white scarf covers his neck, but I suspect that beneath it, the black lines are crawling up his veins. His brown face is paler than I’ve ever seen it.

Around us, the forest is like a living thing, deep and dark and old, and it breathes slowly and steadily with every shift of the wind. The grass rustles in between the trees, and I can only imagine what kind of creatures are scurrying about, out of sight. Shadows play across the ground and over the necks of our horses, but the layers of giant leaves blot out the sun, and it stays as dark as dusk the entire time we ride.

“Hang on.” I spur Lightning Strike forward to catch up with Sheik. “The monsters, the Stalfos, they don’t come out during the day because the sunlight burns them, right?”

“That’s right,” Sheik says.

“Since no sunlight reaches us down here, shouldn’t monsters be able to come out anytime?”

“Shi–!”

That’s when the first Stalfos lunges out from between two trees and slams into Tall Link and Epona.

With a shout, they crash to the ground, and Tall Link barely manages to get his feet out of the stirrups before he’s trapped beneath his horse. He rolls away as the monster tumbles across the ground and clambers to its feet, hissing and brandishing its sword.

Sheik curses and draws his dagger, but his face contorts with pain, and he clutches his shoulder. “Stay back!” Tall Link orders, drawing his sword and shrugging his shield into place. “I can handle this.”

Then a second Stalfos comes out of the trees.

My heart thunders, and the sound overrides everything else. It overrides the fear, it overrides the nerves, it overrides my constantly churning mind. I kick Lightning Strike into motion and draw both daggers, pulling my legs up until I’m crouched in the saddle. Then I leap off my horse. I land on the monster’s raised shield and drive the blades under the rim.

But before the blades can make contact with the Stalfos’ mossy vertebrae, the monster shoves mightily on its shield and flings me off. I fly through the air and crash to the ground, both daggers disappearing from my hands. My head cracks against a rock, and all I can see are white splotches.

“Sleepy Link!” I hear Sheik yell, but it sounds dim and faraway.

The Stalfos’ face appears above me, murky and distorted, and it howls at me, revealing a mouth full of jagged teeth. It brandishes its shield and lifts its sword over its head.

And then something lunges out of the shadows. I see a flash of blue and purple and then a pair of jaws clamp around its chest and yanks it violently away from me and into the darkness.

“Get out of there!” Sheik shouts.

I shake my head to clear the splotches away and roll over, scrambling towards Sheik on all fours. I feel a breath of wind on my back, and I hear teeth snap shut just behind my ear. I regain my feet, tripping a little, and stumble away.

I spin around to see another Deku Baba hissing at me, but when it realizes I’m not coming any closer, it retreats back into the shadows, disappearing entirely.

Metal shrieks against metal, and I turn to see Tall Link exchanging blows with the first Stalfos. The monster drives him back towards the trees, his footing uneven. I search around for my daggers, but then Tall Link finds his stance, and his blue eyes harden.

He deals the Stalfos a sharp, overhand blow which the beast barely catches on its shield. Tall Link drives his own wooden buckler into the monster’s chest, knocking it to the ground. He reverses his grip and stabs the point of his blade through the Stalfos’ heart. The thing shudders and howls, and then falls still, a black ichor oozing out of the wound.

Tall Link pants, yanking his sword free. “Is that all of them?”

“For now,” Sheik says darkly. “Din, why didn’t I see this coming?”

“What do we do now?” I ask. “Do we turn back?”

“No,” Sheik spits. “We’ve barely even started. We can’t turn back.”

Tall Link pulls a rag from his pocket and wipes the ichor from his blade. “So what’s the plan?”

“We keep moving, and we keep our eyes peeled.” Sheik winces and pulls his hand away from his shoulders. His fingers are red with blood. “Damn. I’m going to draw them right to us.” A few drops fall from his fingers and plop to the ground.

“Don’t even suggest that we leave you behind,” Tall link says, glaring at Sheik.

Sheik opens his mouth to protest, but Tall Link’s scowl deepens, and he closes it again.

“We need a diversion,” I say. “Or a false trail.”

“What kind of diversion?” Tall Link asks, looking skeptical.

I eye the rustling grass. “We kill some woodland creatures and toss them in the opposite direction.”

Tall Link’s face pales a little bit, and his hand goes to his stomach. “That’s…morbid and mildly terrifying.”

“It could work.” Sheik hauls himself out of the saddle, grimacing and paling, He staggers when he hits the ground, and he has to lean against his horse for support. Tall Link and I share a look of concern. Whatever got in his wound, it’s potent. If we don’t find an antidote soon, well, I don’t want to think about it.

He digs around in his saddlebags and comes up with some rope and bits of wood. “Gather round,” he says, and Tall Link and I help lower him to the ground.

Sheik shows us how to make a couple of kinds of traps, and then Tall Link and I go out into the trees. First, though, we pull the goddess stones out of their pouch and arrange them in a triangle around Sheik and the horses. I retrieve my daggers and keep one of them drawn as I step through the trees.

I don’t go too far before stopping to lay my traps. Each rustle of grass, each breath of wind, makes my head snap up, makes my eyes strain as they search the shadows. I creep away from the hidden traps, back to our little temporary camp, and join Sheik within the triangle.

“How long do we wait?” I ask as Tall Link returns as well.

“Hard to say.” Sheik scratches at his chin with his good hand. “Too long, and we risk attracting attention to ourselves, too short, and there won’t be anything there.”

We sit there for an hour, and then we go back out to check the traps. I find two thin rabbits and a squirrel, still wriggling, and I keep them away from my body as I hurry back to the triangle. “Here you go,” I say, holding them out to Sheik.

He cocks an eyebrow. “What? You expect me to kill them?”

“Yep. I’m not doing it.”

Tall Link comes back with a squirrel and an odd looking bird and adds them to the pile of squirming animals. Sheik pulls a small knife from his boot. “Okay, listen up,” he says. “I’ll kill these things, and then we’ll throw them in every direction except the one we’re heading in. Make sure you don’t get any blood on yourselves.”

One by one, Sheik slits the animals’ throats and passes them to us so we can fling them into the trees. The instant they’re all gone, we gather the goddess stones and lead our horses away, deeper into the Lost Woods.

After a bit, we climb back into our saddles, though Sheik needs a helping hand. Tall Link keeps his sword drawn and resting on his knees. The forest is dark, and shadows move across our faces and turn our hands different colors. Things continue to move in the underbrush, but they’re small, and it seems like our gambit has worked.

But Sheik grows paler the longer we ride.

“We need to stop,” Tall Links says after a few hours. He has also noticed the sweat on Sheik’s face and his strained expression.

“We can’t,” Sheik protests, but he doesn’t sound very convincing.

“We have to,” Tall Link says firmly. He brings Epona to a halt. “You’re about to fall out of your saddle, and it must be getting near night. We should make camp.”

Sheik sighs, then winces as his shoulder moves. “Fine, fine.”

I still have the goddess stones, so I hop to the ground and set them up in the largest triangle I can manage between the trees, trying to space them out as evenly as possibly. Sheik staggers down from his horse. “No fire,” he orders as Tall Link starts to poke around for wood.

We pull our cloaks around ourselves and sit down, nibbling at cold, hard rations. “Let me take a look at your shoulder,” I say to Sheik.

“Do you know anything about first aid?”

“No, but let me take a look anyways.”

Sheik sighs but unwinds his bloody scarf and drops it to the ground. His shirt is shredded, but he pulls the remains away to reveal the wound. The gashes are black, ragged, and still oozing blood, and the black lines shooting up his veins are thicker and darker, and they’ve spread up his neck and down his chest. He pulls a leather pouch from his belt and passes it to me. It has hard edges, and when I open it, I find seven vials filled with different colored powders.

I take my canteen and pour water over the wound, washing as much of the blood away as I can. Sheik hisses, his clenched fingers white.

“What do these do?” I ask, looking at the vials.

Sheik reaches out a hand and touches each cork as he explains what they do. “Dried coriander. It reduces fever. Dried mint leaves. Good for stomach ailments and treating venoms and wounds. Dried myrrh helps fight infection. Dried rosemary is pretty much good for anything. Yarrow, used to treat wounds. Rue is also good for venom, and clove seeds are a painkiller.”

I nod, thinking it over in my head. It would be best if we had a fire to boil the mixture, but Sheik isn’t going to allow that. Instead, I pour some water into a cup and find our store of white bandages in Sheik’s saddlebag.

I dump a healthy of dried mint, myrrh, and yarrow into the water, and then add some rosemary for good measure. I stir the mixture up and push a strip of bandage in, getting it good and soaked. I fold it up and place it on top of the wound, and then I wind a dry bandage around Sheik’s shoulder and chest.

I have no idea if this will work, and I’m worried it will just make things worse, but there’s nothing else I can do.

Sheik eases his shirt back into place, and I put his herbs away, passing the pouch back to him. He reattaches it to his belt with another grimace.

We sleep in shifts, though what sleep we do get is light and fractured. It’s been dark ever since we entered the Lost Woods, the level of light unchanging, and that makes it hard to sleep and hard to know when to wake. The next morning, we skip breakfast. Cold hardtack sounds utterly unappetizing.

We pick up the goddess stones and start moving again. Sheik’s face looks a little less pale, and he sits on his horse a little easier. Maybe the herbs really will work.

“So, we don’t know where we’re going, and we don’t know what we’re looking for,” Tall Link says. We ride in a clump, and he leads the way, sword drawn.

“We’re looking for ruins,” Sheik says. “Legend says there’s a temple in the Lost Woods. We find ruins, hopefully we find the temple, and hopefully we find answers.”

It’s hard to argue with that logic.

We travel for five days (I think, it’s hard to tell) without finding anything. Every time we make camp, Sheik has us train until we’re ready to drop, and every meal is made up of hardtack, dried jerky, and cold water. And with every passing hour, our tempers grow shorter and shorter. My words become sharper, my barbs more poisonous. Tall Link constantly looks like he wants to hit me over the head with the pommel of his sword. One night, he throws a punch at me that knocks me to the ground, but I spring back up and tackle him. Sheik has to drag us apart. The only good thing is that Sheik’s shoulder slowly heals. The black lines recede, the swelling goes down, and the bleeding stops.

On the sixth day, we’re attacked by a pair of Stalfos just before we can lay down the goddess stones for our lunch break. One of them has a massive, double-bladed axe, coated in rust and chipped around the edges. The other one has the standard sword and shield combination.

I stare at them, frozen again. I’m still not used to the sight of them. I probably never will be. They have vines crawling in between their yellowed bones, and one of them has a huge, gaping hole in its skull. They’re both missing teeth, but the ones that are left look like fangs.

“Move!” Sheik yells and slaps Lightning Strike on the rump.

I’m jolted back into my body. Tall Link leaps from his saddle, drawing his sword as he falls, and crashes down on the axe Stalfos, intending to cleave it in two, but the monster catches his blade on the top of its axe.

The second Stalfos bellows at Sheik and me, demanding all my attention. “Stay back,” Sheik yells. “I can handle this.”

Most of me wants to do as he says. Sheik can deal with the Stalfos; he’s an expert warrior, but I failed last time, and I’ve failed every single other time, too. I can’t keep failing.

So I jump down from my horse and draw both my daggers. The Stalfos is completely focused on Sheik. It doesn’t notice me at all. I draw my hood up over my head, and my breathing slows.

Sheik engages with the Stalfos, whirling and clashing against the rusty sword and shield. My feet are silent on the hard ground as I circle around the fight until I’m behind the monster, and my cloak shifts with the shadows. The whisper of its hem sounds like the whisper of the wind. The Stalfos wears several bits of armor on its shoulders and neck and around its waist, but its spine is unprotected.

I creep forward, watching the sway and buck of the fight. I wait for a moment, but as soon as I start to move again, daggers raised, the Stalfos shudders and freezes. The sword falls from its hand, and then it falls too, cracking its head open on its own shield.

Sheik stands in front of me, holding two dripping daggers, and his eyes flicker past me once before them come back and focus on my cloaked form. “Sleepy Link?”

I sigh and lower my hood. “I almost had it.”

“Are you guys okay?” Tall Link hurries up to us, still clutching his sword.

“We should move before we set up camp,” Sheik says by way of answer.

So we do. We lead our horses another hundred feet down the narrow strip of clear ground between the towering trees and set up the goddess stones in a small circle. I sit down on the cold ground with a tight grunt, wishing whole-heartedly for a fire. Even a small one. But Sheik won’t allow it.

In the morning, we keep moving, not speaking to each other. I stare at the ground just in front of Lightning Strike’s nose and let my eyes glaze over. I sway back and forth, though I know that I should be paying attention. I should be looking for the so-called ruins or at least keep an eye out for monsters.

“There!” Tall Link shouts. “Look!”

I nearly tip out of my saddle, but I catch the pommel at the last moment. Sheik urges his horse forward eagerly, and I squint through the trees, searching for whatever Tall Link finds exciting, but all I see are trees and rocks covered in dead moss. Sheik jumps down and crouches beside a particularly large rock, tearing the dried, grey plants away. When he turns back to us, he’s grinning.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s the Triforce.” He shifts to the side so we can see. The stone is weathered and worn and crumbling to bits, but there in the center, nearly invisible, are the three triangles of the Triforce. “I think it’s a trail marker. We must be close!” Sheik leaps to his feet and onto his horse, still grinning like a child. “Good find, Tall Link.”

Tall Link beams at the praise, and I feel a stab of jealousy.

We plod past the trail marker. Somehow, the shadows grow even deeper, and they shift in unnatural patterns, wheeling like winged animals across the ground. We see – well, Tall Link and Sheik see, I’m pretty much too unobservant to see anything – more of the trail markers carved into the moss covered rocks. They take us on a winding, weaving path through the Lost Woods. We follow it for another two days, and on the final day, we start to climb. We climb and climb and climb, fording streams that bubble along sluggishly and stomping through mud pits that are a foot deep. If the trees were large at the start of the Lost Woods, they’re massive here. The three of us holding hands and stretching out our arms wouldn’t be able to reach around half the trunk.

The spaces between the trees become larger as well, though the canopy overhead remains as tangled as ever. I see the eager look in Sheik’s eyes, and a pair of wings rustles in my stomach. Our horses’ hooves sink into the deep layer of pine needles and leaves, so no sound disturbs the stillness of the forest, and I spot a few shadowy Deku Babas swaying in between the trees, but we don’t get close enough to warrant their attack.

Stones begin to rise up on one side of us, reaching towards the sky until they tower over us, and the ground continues to climb. And then we come out onto the top of a cliff, and we stare at the tree rising up in front of us. Looking up at it makes a wave of vertigo wash over me.

The tree is the size of Hyrule Castle. No, it’s the size of three Hyrule Castles stacked on top of each other. It sits right at the edge of the cliff, and half of it hangs out into open air, secured on the cliff side by massive roots that are larger than the trunks of the surrounding trees. One of the giant roots is carved into the shape of a walkway, and it leads up to the center of the trunk.

“Din,” Tall Link breathes, craning his neck to find the top of the tree, but it disappears into the clouds.

Sunlight reaches this part of the forest, and there’s snow on the ground, thick and white. It’s disorientating to see such light, even filtered by the clouds as it is, and I blink rapidly, rubbing at my eyes. It looks like it’s about midday.

“This must be what Link was looking for all those years ago,” Sheik says. “I can’t believe we actually found it.”

“What is this?” I ask.

“it’s a temple,” Tall Link realizes. “There’s one just like it in Faron Woods.”

He’s right. Three times a year, everyone in Ordon Village makes the trek through the woods to Farore’s temple to pray and give thanks to the goddess, but it’s nowhere near as large as this one.

“This one,” Sheik nods at the great tree, “must be the original temple to Farore.” His voice takes on a history teacher quality. “The Lost Woods weren’t always lost, you know. A people named the Kokiri used to live here; they were a race of immortal children, and I think they called the temple the Great Deku Tree. It protected them and the forest. But then the Great Deku Tree was killed by the agents of darkness, and monsters began to appear. Then the Kokiri disappeared. No one knows what happened to them. The Lost woods became a dark and dangerous place, and knowledge of this temple must have passed into shadow. Much later, the new temple was created in the Faron Woods, but they were unable to capture the glory of the original.”

“How long ago was this?” I ask, staring in awe at the temple that hasn’t been seen by human eyes in who knows how long.

“A long time. Thousands of years maybe.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Tall Link shivers as a cold wind sweeps through the forest.

“I’m the ambassador for the royal family,” Sheik answers. “It’s good to know a lot about the country you’re ambassadoring for.”

Looking at the tree in the light of Sheik’s story, it does seem dead. The bark looks more grey than brown, the lines of the branches are stiff, and they don’t move in the wind. The ground around its base is crinkled and dry, and no snow has fallen around it.

“Are we going in?” Tall Link asks.

Sheik nods and tightens his grip on his reins. “We have to.”


	10. The Temple of Farore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm sorry this took so long! I had a lot of trouble figuring out what I wanted to do with the temple and the story arc. Also I handwrite everything, then type it up, then edit it, so it can be a bit of a long process. But I hope this chapter was worth the wait!

Chapter Nine

The Temple of Farore 

It takes a long time to walk up the sloping root to the temple’s yawning, black entrance. We leave our horses at the base of the tree. We can’t take them into the temple, and we’ll just have to hope they’ll still be here when we get back. Tall Link suggests that we put the goddess stones around them, but Sheik shakes his head, saying we might need the stones ourselves.

And then we stand before the shadowed arch. There’s no way to see through the shadows and discover what awaits us within the temple, no way to prepare but to draw our weapons and be ready for anything. As always, Sheik takes the lead, and Tall Link brings up the rear, leaving me in the middle, the safest spot. It makes me feel useless and pathetic. More than anything, I want to prove myself to Sheik.

We step out of the shadows and into the light. Cracks in the trunk of the tree allow sunlight to spill into the vast, circular room. I gasp. Suddenly, it’s not bitterly, freeze-all-your-toes-off cold. Instead, it’s crisp in a way that freshens your lungs and clears your head.

The temple contains a forest caught in a perpetual fall. Trees push up out of the ground and shoot out of the walls at sharp angles, bathed in red, orange, and gold leaves that glow in the sunlight, and their fallen brethren crinkle underfoot. I see small animals dart through the underbrush, and birds flit by overhead.

We step into the trees, and I look around in awe. It’s nearly a perfect picture of autumn, though no wind blows, and so the leaves hang stagnant, giving the forest a dream-like quality.

In the center of the still woods, we find a raised wooden platform, a set of stairs leading up to it. two unlit torches guard the foot of the staircase, and four more stand in the corners of the dais. In the center is a stone statue of a young woman with long hair, her hands lifted towards the sky. Much of her face has been weathered away by time, but her eyes are still sharp and deep. Tall Link, Sheik, and I pause on a patch of earth clear of dead leaves and covered instead by soft, green grass.

“This is amazing,” Tall Link breathes, turning in a circle to take in as much of the forest as he can. “But how is it possible?”

“Magic,” Sheik says. He, too, seems taken aback by the forest caught out of time.

“Is this where the Kokiri came to pray?” I ask, nodding at the large platform.

Sheik runs his hand down one of the wooden supports. “I suspect so.”

Tall Link continues his slow, searching circle, and when he’s facing away from us, he pauses and cocks his head to the side. He walks away, finally sheathing his sword, and crouches down. He explores the ground with his fingers.

Sheik glances at me curiously and walks over. “What did you find?”

Tall Link passes him something, and Sheik looks it over. I hurry up to them so I can see, too. It’s a blackened stick. Not blackened as in burned, blackened as in completely rotten. It crumbles as Sheik handles it, little bits sticking to his fingers, and the entire thing looks warped and wrong.

“Look, there’s more.” Tall Link points at the ground, tracing a line into the trees. A tendril of the black rot snakes its way across the forest floor, killing the ground and eating away at whatever leaves or plants come in contact with it. There’s even a dead animal, rotted away nearly to the skeleton. I can’t tell what kind of creature it was when it was alive.

Sheik drops the stick when he sees the corpse, and he and Tall Link wipe their hands on their tunics.

“We should follow it,” Sheik says, standing up.

That seems like the last thing we should do, but I don’t say anything. I’d probably just be ignored, anyways.

We step into the trees and are swallowed by the frozen shadows. It’s eerie, watching the dark patches sit on the ground when they should be twisting and turning in every direction. The line of black rot grows thicker and starts to branch off in different directions. When it touches the roots of the trees, it oozes through the bark and up the trunks. Dead, rotten branches litter the ground, and none of the infected trees have leaves.

The further we walk, the worse the death becomes. We step carefully to avoid the rot, and large spores float through the air. One of them brushes my cheek and leaves a stinging, itching spot, and I scrub away at it with the hem of my cloak, terrified that my face will turn black and fall off.

“What could have caused this?” Tall Link asks, looking a little like he wants to throw up when he sees a trio of dead animals in various states of rotting away.

“I have no idea,” Sheik says. He pulls the hem of his white scarf higher over his nose.

We reach the edge of the room. The trees march all the way up to the wooden wall, and some of them even climb up the rough surface. The black rot comes out of an arched doorway, its spidery tendrils thicker and darker than ever, eating up a large section of the wall and floor. All the trees are husks, twisted and blackened like wraiths presiding over a cemetery.

I sigh, staring at the dark hole. “Let me guess. We’re going down there.”

“We have to,” Sheik says.

“We don’t _have_ to,” I point out.

All Sheik gives me in reply is a sardonic look.

He leads the way through the doorway. The rotten ground is spongy underfoot, and my boots sink into it with a crunching sound that’s at odds with the texture. There’s a staircase just on the other side of the arch, and there’s a handrail, but no one wants to risk touching it. The steps crumble and shift beneath my weight, and I’m convinced they’re going to give way at any moment.

The air smells like death, and it gets worse the further we descend. I gag and cover my mouth with the back of my hand. It doesn’t just smell like rot and decay. It smells like the end. The end of all things. The end of life, the end of existence, the end.

The stairs flatten out, and we step into another room. It’s bitterly cold again, though the chill sits stagnantly around us like a heavy weight. Another forest fills this floor, though it’s completely dead, the black rot encasing every tree trunk, their roots, and their branches, and more of it climbs up the walls. There’s snow on the ground, but it’s grey and dingy. Even the frozen water has been contaminated by the rot. The light is dimmer here; there are only a few cracks in the trunk near the ceiling, and they’re partially covered by grey cobwebs.

I shiver and pull my cloak tighter. I like the room full of fall better.

“I think I saw something move,” Tall Link says with wide eyes. His hand goes to his sword hilt.

I scan the dead trees, searching for whatever he saw, but everything is still and silent. “Tread carefully,” Sheik says, drawing one of his daggers. He doesn’t like the stillness either. I feel like there’s something watching us as we leave the archway, and I put my hood up. Its deep depths make me feel safe.

They grey snow makes an odd squeaking sound under my boots, and the still shadows drape their arms over my head, sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t like this,” I murmur.

Sheik shushes me.

And then something howls.

The sound is like the wind of the bitterest blizzard, and it cuts through the air like a thousands knives. Sheik freezes instantly, his eyes sharp and narrow over his scarf. “Circle up,” he orders tightly.

Tall Link and I do as we’re told, terrified by the icy howl, and the three of us press our backs together. I draw both my daggers, and the air rings with the sound of Tall Link unsheathing his sword. “What is it?” I ask.

The howl comes once more, circling all around us again and again until it’s impossible to tell where it originates from. Before Sheik can answer my question, a creature steps out from between two trees. It walks on all fours, though its front half is disproportionately large, and its shoulders are thick and hunched. Red eyes glow, surrounded by coarse, white fur, and it has a huge gaping mouth filled with jagged teeth. Its huge paws sink into the snow, each toe tipped with a long, sharp claw.

“That’s a white wolfos,” Tall Link says. He sounds scared. “I thought they were just a myth.”

“Nothing is just a myth,” Sheik says.

That sounds ominous.

The white wolfos snarls at us and pads closer, and even on all fours, it’s as tall as I am. “How do we kill it?” I squeak.

“A stab through the heart should do it,” Sheik says.

A stab through the heart protected by those giant paws and teeth.

The white wolfos roars and pounces, its snout pointed at Tall Link. “Scatter!” Sheik yells, and we scatter. We each dive in a different direction, and I roll through the foul smelling snow. Clumps of it stick unnaturally to my cloak as I struggle back to my feet.

I spin around just in time to see Tall Link slash at the white wolfos, which now stands on two legs and towers over him, but it locks its arms in an X, and the sword lands as harmlessly as if it had hit a shield. Stepping lightly, Sheik tries to circle the white wolfos, but it lashes out at him, and he’s forced to leap back. Tall Link moves to take advantage of its distraction, but it catches his blade with its claws.

Tall Link and Sheik attack simultaneously, but the beast holds them both off. Their blades can’t make it through its thick fur. I pull the hood of my cloak tighter and take a deep breath. The snow still squeaks under my boots as I walk through it, but the sound of the battle covers up any noise I make.

The fight circles, dances, and surges around the clear space between the trees, and though I ebb and flow with it, I can’t pick out any discernible pattern. The white wolfos clubs Tall Link in the chest with the back of its paw, and he flies away, crashing to the ground. Sheik moves with impossible fluidity, bending and swaying away from the slashing claws and returning the attacks in the same motion.

I move in before I can think too hard about it, and my mind goes blank. The world washes over me. The endless stillness of the dead forest. The stalled battle. The insidious creeping of the rot through the temple. I see it all with crystal clarity. I see the white wolfos’ weak spot pulsing like a light in its back. And I see that in a moment, Sheik’s foot will slip on a patch of icy snow, and his adversary’s claws will take him in the head.

My dagger sinks into the white wolfos’ back. I don’t remember how I got here or the act of driving the blade into the beast. Yet here I stand. The white wolfos shrieks and bellows, slashing furiously at the air with its claws. Sheik darts forward and stabs it, and I feel our daggers clink together within its chest. As one, we rip our knives free. Black blood trails behind the point of mine.

The white wolfos howls one last time and collapses. Immediately, the black rot begins to swallow it.

Sheik pulls down his scarf, revealing a grin, and he slides his daggers through his belt, still bloody. “Good work.” He steps up to me and grabs my forearm in a tight embrace, pumping it up and down, heedless of my dripping dagger. I flush at the praise and the contact, dropping my head to hide the red in my cheeks.

Sheik releases my hand and claps me on the back. As I clean off my knives, he goes to check on Tall Link who’s still lying, winded, on the ground. Sheik helps him up, and he clutches his chest. “Din, I hope there aren’t any more of those,” he wheezes.

“You probably just jinxed us,” I groan.

Without Tall Link’s permission, Sheik prods and pokes his chest. “You don’t have any broken ribs,” Sheik says. “You’re fine.”

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t just get thrown ten feet through the air.”

Sheik laughs without any hint of pity.

We skirt the white wolfos’ corpse and head deeper into the black trees. They’re all twisted into different shapes, but after awhile, they start to look the same. We pass through another prayer clearing like the one on the floor above, though this dais is rotted through and falling apart. The statue fell through the weakened wood, and now, only Farore’s hands stick out into the air. I wonder what this room looked like in its splendor, what beauty it held.

 _How long has this temple been dying?_ I think as we leave the clearing. I step over a fallen branch, lifting the hem of my cloak. And what has the power to kill it? This temple is connected to Farore; it contains some of her power. Killing it is like killing her.

The rot is thicker on this side of the clearing, though that seems impossible. The snow looks more like a fungus, black and spotted with grey, and we have to pull our shirts up over our mouths to protect ourselves from the thick spores that hang in the air. They don’t drift or move in any way. They just hang as if suspended by string, too numerous and too close together to avoid. Around us, the trees creak and groan, and every so often, a branch collapses under its own weight. One nearly crushes us, and we have to scatter, our only warning an echoing crack.

Sheik stares at the shatter limb impassively. “Well, that was close.”

“You don’t say?” I can barely hear him over the thundering of my heart.

After that, we keep one eye pointed up at the trees. It would be quite embarrassing to survive Stalfos, Deku Babas, and white wolfos only to get killed by a tree.

Then we step onto a thin, cobblestone path. One moment, we’re walking through the rotten snow, and then our boots thud against the stones. They’re the only things untouched by the black rot. It’s a relief to walk on something that’s solid and doesn’t release deadly particles every time it’s disturbed. The path ends at a large, round door. Farore’s symbol – a circle surrounded on one side by two crescent moons, one larger than the other, to form a larger circle – is carved into the center and filled in with a chipping, green paint. There are two knobs in the center of the door, and a thick, heavy chain is wrapped around them, an ornate padlock holding them in place. The door and chain are free of the rot, though it climbs thickly out of the cracks around the edges.

Sheik runs his hand over the padlock and rattles it, but it hardly budges. He crouches down to examine it better. “This lock, it was put here recently.”

“How recently?” I ask.

“Maybe fifty years ago or so.”

“That’s not exactly recent,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s right around the time that Link disappeared,” Tall Link muses, and since his comment is actually relevant, Sheik chooses to address him.

“It’s possible he was the one who put it here.”

I run my eyes over the dark rot leaking out from behind the door. “What was he trying to keep locked up?” I wonder.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Sheik says.

“Do you think it caused the black rot?”

He nods. “And maybe even the rest of the trouble in the world.”

Could it be that simple? We just unlock that door, kill whatever’s inside, and then the world goes back to normal? No more monsters haunting the nighttime? No more living in fear? It seems almost too good to be true, and I remind myself that whatever’s inside will be hard, if impossible, to kill.

Every few years, a bard named Icaria visits Ordon Village and tells tales of the Hero Chosen by the Gods and his journey to save Hyrule. About how Link met the Twili Princess Midna, and they retrieved three Fused Shadows from three different temples in order to defeat the usurper, Zant, and save the world from twilight, only to find that Zant had fled to the Twilight Realm. So they gathered the shards of the Mirror of Twilight and killed Zant, but they then learned that he was just Ganondorf’s puppet.

Their journey was filled with so many turns and surprises. One thing after another, after another. I can only hope that our journey won’t be like that, too.

“Say we do get into that room.” Tall Link glances around the still forest to make sure we’re still alone. “What if whatever is in there gets past us? What if we set it free?”

“We’ll just have to make sure we succeed,” Sheik says as if it’s the same thing as walking through a park. “But we don’t have to worry about that yet. We need to find the key first.”

“There’s a key there.” I point at the ground where the circular end of a brass key pokes out of the dead snow. I only notice it because it glints a little in the dim light, and it’s not a matte black like the rest of its surroundings.

Sheik plucks it out of the snow with two fingers, careful to make sure he doesn’t touch any of the black ice. He brushes the last of the rot off with his cloak, then compares the key to the lock. Finally, he shakes his head. “This looks like the key to the original lock. Link probably took the new one with him, or maybe he hid it somewhere within the temple. Come on, let’s head back upstairs.”

Good, I’m getting cold.

Sheik pockets the brass key, and we head back the way we came. I nestle deep within my cloak, away from the bitter cold, and I’m so concerned with not losing any fingers that it’s a long time before I notice the wind. The wind inside the temple that’s been still as a grave since we arrived.

I stop, brow furrowed, and watch the way my cloak waves back and forth. “Uh, guys?” I say. Tall Link and Sheik don’t hear me, and they keep walking. I try again, a little louder. “Guys?”

Sheik glances back over his shoulder. “What?”

“Where’s that wind coming from?”

The fringe on Sheik’s scarf flaps very slightly in the wind, and he traps it against his chest with one hand. “It’s coming from over there.” He looks off to our left, a puzzled expression on his face.

“It’s probably just getting in through the cracks in the tree,” Tall Link says. “It’s nothing.”

“We’re underground,” Sheik points out. “There are barely enough cracks for the light to come through.”

“It’s just wind.” Tall Link sounds a little like he’s trying to convince himself of that.

I’m starting to learn that it’s never just wind.

Sheik, of course, wants to go investigate. Moving on quiet feet, we head into the breeze, using the dead trees as cover. Sheik holds up his hand for us to stop, and we take cover behind three of the thicker trunks. I poke my head out to see what it is.

A statue of an ice monster sits in between two trees. A head with a dozen red eyes and icicle teeth juts out of a craggy, milk-white wall. A faint whistling sound fills the air around it, and the wind is definitely stronger.

Sheik puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head, which I take to mean, ‘don’t move’. He mouths what I think is “Freezard” at us.

I try to dredge up what I know about Freezards, but I come up blank. I’ve heard the term before, but I can’t remember when or where.

Sheik crouches down, careful to stay hidden by the tree, and digs through his pack until he finds his lantern. He rips a strip of bandages and wraps it around a nearby rock, then douses the whole thing in lamp oil. With a strike of his flint, he lights the bundle on fire.

I gasp as he picks up the flaming ball with his bare hands and steps out into the open. The Freezard hisses, and its reptilian mouth drops open as Shiek lobs the missile through the air. He dives back under cover just as a gale of icy wind slices past our hiding spots. The trees crack and groan, shards of rotten wood flying through the air.

The Freezard shrieks in agony. I risk a peek around the tree trunk. Sheik’s missile hit the ice beast dead on and stuck in its mouth, and now the whole head is melting, releasing great gouts of steam. Within minutes, the Freezard is nothing more than a puddle on the ground.

“Your hands,” Tall Link says, hurrying over to check the damage.

“Are fine.” Sheik holds his miraculously unburned hands up for us to see.

Confusion wrinkles Tall Link’s brow. “How?”

“Sheikah training.”

It’s not much of an answer, but it’s probably the only one we’re going to get. Sheikah magic, nearly a lost art, is a jealously guarded secret.

The three of us hurry back to the stairs before any other unpleasant beasts can accost us, and we step out into the colorful fall forest. One last shiver runs down my body before the slightly warmer air envelops it. Sheik leads the way back to the prayer dais, out of the partially rotten trees. He glances up at the cracks in the temple’s trunk. “It’s starting to get dark. We should make camp.”

As the shadows blend together into a smudgy blanket, we set up the goddess stones and gather wood. For the first time in a long time, we have a fire, and it’s luxurious. It’s amazing. I scoot in close and hold out my hands, letting the warmth wash over them.

After dinner, Sheik rolls himself up in his cloak and lies down, but I stay up a while longer to watch the embers die. Tall Link sits beside me, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Do you think Ilia is okay?” he asks me.

“I’m sure she is,” I say, but the concerned look doesn’t leave his face.

“I’m worried about her.” He tosses a leave into the embers, and a few sparks jump into the air.

I’m not much good at the whole comforting thing, and I glance down at my hands. “I bet she’s worried about you, too.”

“We’ve been gone for so long. I hope she doesn’t think we’re…” he trails off. “I’m doing this for her, you know. She’s always wanted to spend a night under the stars. I want to give her that.”

“You love her,” I say, thought I know this already. I’ve always been a little jealous of her, though that feeling is starting to fade.

He nods. “I was going to ask her to marry me. but then all this happened.” He reaches into his pack and digs out a small wooden box. He hands it to me, and I slowly pull the lid off, revealing a slim silver band etched with leaves.

“She’ll love it,” I tell him. I close the box up and give it back. He reverently tucks it back within his bag, bundling it up so it’s snug and secure.

“I’m going to ask her as soon as we get home,” he says with a smile. “Do you think your dad will give me his blessing?”

I clap him on the knee. “Of course he will. He loves you.” More than he loves me.

“Thanks, Sleepy Link.” He stares at me with soft, sad eyes and a gentle smile. He looks vulnerable, not a look I usually associate with him. It’s disconcerting. He’s the strong one, the one with all the confidence. I forget sometimes that he’s not that much older than me.

I take a deep breath. “You’re going to make it back to her,” I promise. “You’ll ask her to marry you, and she’ll say yes, and you’ll have a bunch of kids, if you want to.”

A dreamy expression glides through his eyes. One of the coals pops, the sparks flashing. “And what about you?”

I cock an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“When are you going to make a move?” Tall Link nods towards Sheik with a sly grin.

My face bursts into flames, and I want to shrivel up before the embarrassment grows any worse. Din, I hope Sheik is fast asleep. “I – what – you – what are you talking about?”

Tall Link laughs and punches me in the arm. I almost fall over. “I’m talking about the huge ole crush you’ve got on Sheik.”

“I don’t – I don’t have a crush on Sheik.” I can’t look him in the eyes as I say it. My words sound like lies even to my own ears.

“Sure you don’t,” Tall Link says. He obviously doesn’t believe me either.

I sigh, dropping my head. “Is it that obvious?” Tall Link nods several times. “I can’t – there’s no way he likes me. He’s probably got a thing for Princess Zelda.”

“Well, have you asked him?” Tall Link says, and I look at him sideways, aghast.

“Don’t be stupid! I couldn’t do that!”

“I could ask him for you.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Tall Link laughs loudly, and I shush him, grasping at his arm and looking desperately at Sheik to make sure he doesn’t wake up. He remains still within his cloak. The last coal loses its red glow and turns black, plunging us into darkness. “I guess that’s our cue,” Tall Link says.

“Sheik will want us up bright and early,” I agree with a sigh.

In the darkness, I gather my cloak and lie down, shifting until I find the softest patch of ground. It takes me a long time to fall asleep, and when I finally do slip into my dreams, they’re filled with images of rotten white wolves with red eyes. They maul a screaming Tall Link who turns into Ilia who turns into Rusl who turns into Sheik, and all the while, I stand nearby with knives in hand and vines tangled around my feet.

I wake up unrested and shaking. Sheik has rekindled the fire and is cooking something in a pan that sizzles and smells meaty. When Tall Link sees that I’m awake, he grins and jerks his chin at Sheik’s back, wiggling his eyebrows. I shake my head and glare at him.

Breakfast does wonders for dispelling the shakes, and then we pack up our bags. “Alright, ready to go?” Sheik asks.

“What’s the plan?” I can’t look him in the eye. I’m too embarrassed. It doesn’t seem like he heard my conversation with Tall Link last night, but he’s a good liar, so who really knows.

“This temple has to have several more floors,” Sheik says. “Hopefully, the key will be somewhere.”

We set off through the fall forest in a different direction from yesterday until we come to the wall, and then we follow it to the right until we come to a staircase not coated in rot. These steps lead up and spill us out into a lush, green room.

Instantly, I start to sweat beneath my cloak, so I quickly shed it, though even my wool tunic feels too heavy. We stand at the edge of a sprawling green forest. The foliage overhead is tightly woven together, and the tree trunks are a deep brown. We stand on a bed of thick, emerald grass, and the underbrush embraces the forest floor in gentle patches. Insects drone lazily through the air.

“It’s summer,” Tall Link says incredulously.

“Can we just stay here?” I ask. The warmth and the buzz of insects is making me sleepy.

“No,” Sheik answers.

He splits us up and tells us to search a different section of the forest. I take the right third of the room and set off between the trees. The ground is springy beneath my feet, and after a few minutes, I take off my tunic and tie it around my waist. I pass a little bubbling brook with a bunny drinking from its waters, and the ground swells and dips beneath me.

I don’t have a systematic search grid. I just kind of wander around, bouncing off the wall whenever I come to it. I also don’t know what I’m looking for. A chest maybe, but all I see are trees.

“Links!” Sheik calls a little while later.

“Did you find something?” Tall Link shouts back.

“A staircase! Come on!”

At this point, I’m at the wall, so I follow it in the direction of Sheik’s voice, all the way around to the back of the room. Tall Link is already there, and we waste no time hurrying up the steps.

This time, we find ourselves in a room full of spring. The ground is damp and green, moisture hangs in the air, and the branches of the trees are covered in little, red buds or fresh, green leaves. Flowers of every color dot the ground, though they’re still small and young.

Sheik looks over at me and grins. “Nice chest.”

Embarrassed, I quickly put my shirt back on. Tall Link snorts behind me.

We explore this room, too, and in the clearing with a dais that matches the ones in the rooms below, we find a wooden chest. It’s small, perhaps the size of my hands pressed together, and it sits in a little compartment that juts out of the leg of the platform. Sheik picks it up and flips it open, but the inside is empty. He takes the brass key from his pocket, and it fits into the box perfectly.

“I kind of hoped Link had put the new key where the old one was, but I guess that would be too easy,” he says with a slightly bitter laugh.

So we comb carefully through the rest of the room, but all we find is one last door. It deposits us on a little balcony outside of the temple, overhanging the cliff. I step carefully up to the railing around the edge, clasping my cloak around my shoulders once again.

I can see all the way across the forest and onto Hyrule Field. The castle is a smudge in the distance. The ravine beneath us plunges down, down, down, and it seems like if you fell in it, you would wind up going all the way around and falling through the sky.

“Sheik, there’s a glass bottle,” Tall Link says, and I turn away from the daunting view.

Tall Link holds a large container in his hands, the glass darkened with dirt and age. There’s a cork wedged in the top that refuses to budge when he yanks on it. Sheik stabs his dagger into it and tries to wiggle it free, but he has to cut it into four pieces before it will come out.

He shakes a folded piece of paper into his hand. It crumbles as he gingerly opens it. Tall Link and I crowd in close to see what it says. Lines of cramped, messy handwriting fill the page, the ink faded in several places.

_“I feel I owe someone an explanation, though I doubt that this message will ever be found. Only a few days after I defeated Ganondorf, I started having dreams. Dreams of a terrible darkness being born in these woods. But we had finally found peace, so I left without telling anyone why. I didn’t want to take that safety away from them. The dreams led me to this temple. It was strange traveling alone, without Midna to accompany me. I found a terrible monster living in the lowest level of the temple. I haven’t the word to name it, but it was immense, and I don’t think it was even fully grown._

_"Already, the darkness was infecting the temple. I tried to kill it, but it was too strong, and my only option was to seal it away. I locked the doors using some of the magic the goddesses taught me, but I cannot say how long the seal will hold. Much of the temple is already corrupted by its dark power. It’s bad. I was wounded in the battle, and  I think I may be dying. It’s an odd feeling, knowing that my death is near and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m leaving this message as far away from the beast and the black rot as I can, in the hopes that someone will find it. I’m going to take the key with me. That seems safest. That way, even if this message falls into the wrong hands, the key will be lost with me when I die, and the beast will remain locked away. I am sorry to have failed you, Hyrule."_

_\- Link_

We stare at each other after we finish reading the message. All for nothing. Link isn’t here. We don’t know where he went. We have no clues, no leads. Our journey ends here with a door we can’t open and a monster we can’t kill. The darkness will keep eating away at the world, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

Sheik slowly folds the note up and slides it back in the bottle. “So what now?” I ask.

“Search the rest of the balcony,” Sheik says. There’s a desperate glint in his eyes. “Maybe there’s something else.”

But there’s nothing else. We even search the spring and summer rooms again, but we come up empty. Dejected, we spend the night in the fall forest. The fire casts shadows across the front of Farore’s statue up on the dais, and I stare at it, watching the patterns shift on the weathered face.

“We need a new plan,” Tall Link says, trying to force some pep into his voice.

“There’s nothing we can do,” I grumble. “We’re dead in the water.”

He whacks me in the shoulder. “Don’t say that. We can still do this.”

“He could be anywhere!” I yell, losing my temper. “Anywhere! We’ll never find him!”

Sheik stays silent as we bicker, tapping his fingers against his knee. He stares into the flickering flames, and his face grows darker and darker. “That’s enough!” he yells finally. His words echo around and around the forest and then fall like stones. I clamp my mouth shut. “Shut up, both of you! You sound like children!”

“Rusl died for nothing,” I say bitterly.

“That’s not true.” His voice catches a little. I snort. I don’t believe him. “Just go to sleep. We’ll head back to Castle Town in the morning. Princess Zelda will help us with a new plan.”

Reluctantly, we lie down, turning our backs on each other. My eyes don’t want to close – they burn and itch – and I stare at the darkness. A tear slides down my cheek, and that opens up the dam for the rest of them. My shoulders shake, and I bite down hard to keep the sobs from coming out.

I don’t know if I sleep or if I just keep staring out in the blackness. I stay still as the light filters through the cracks in the tree, and behind me, I can hear Sheik bustling around, preparing breakfast.

Then Tall Link sits bolt upright with a gasp. I roll over and turn my head to look at him. His eyes are wide and his face pale, and his golden hair sticks up in every direction. “What is it?” Sheik asks him.

“This is going to sound crazy, but I,” he hesitates, “I think I know where Link’s body is.”

“What? How?” Sheik abandons his cooking so he can listen to what Tall Link has to say.

“I had a dream,” Tall Link says self-consciously. “That statue was in it.” He nods up at the dais. “Its eyes started to glow, and then I was flying through the sky, over the forest, all the way to Lake Hylia. I think…I think his body is beneath the lake.”

“How is that possible?” I ask. “Lake Hylia is miles away, and his note said he was dying. He couldn’t have made it that far”

“The dream felt so real. Like it was actually happening.” Tall Link looks at his hands as if they’re foreign. “I could feel the wind and the cold. It was weird.”

“The past reincarnations of Link had prophetic dreams,” Sheik muses. “Perhaps that’s what you had. We should investigate.”

“You want to travel all the way to Lake Hylia because of a _dream_?” I demand.  

“It’s that or let the world die,” he snaps, and I pull back, away from his blazing eyes. “You can go home if you want.”

I quickly shake my head and fold my own face into a determined scowl.

“Pack up,” Sheik orders. “We’ve got a lot of distance to cover.”


	11. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm sorry it's been so long! I'm terrible! When I got back from spring break, school got really hectic, and I just haven't had much time for any sort of personal writing. But better very, very late than never, right? (Sorry).

Chapter Ten

Home

It’s about a three weeks’ journey to Lake Hylia, and thankfully, our horses are where we left them, looking perfectly fine. Lightning Strike snorts when he sees me, and I rub his nose, wishing I had a treat to give him. We have to backtrack back the way we came in order to get out of the Lost Woods; otherwise, we’ll end up wandering until we die, and our souls will remain trapped among the trees as Stalfos.

Mostly, we travel in silence. Tall Link tries to tell a few raunchy tales about Ordon Village, but that just makes us homesick, so he stops. And Sheik’s too busy watching for danger to tell us one of his many tales. I don’t have any interesting stories, nor am I good at talking unless it’s to say something snarky or get myself in trouble, so I keep my mouth shut and my head down.

It takes us just over a week to get out of the woods, carefully retracing our steps, using Sheik’s perfect memory, and by that time, we’re nearly out of food. I’m exhausted. I think the saddle has completely rearranged the shape of my butt, I haven’t been sleeping well, and I definitely smell like it’s been weeks since I showered. We all do. Every morning when I wake up, I hate the sight of Lightning Strike standing there placidly because it means another long day in the saddle.

At long last, we see the cave that marks the end of the Lost Woods and the start of the Faron Woods. _Thank Din_ , I think. I’m tired of the endless trees and the whisper of the bare branches in the wind. Sheik pulls out his lantern and lights the wick, and then we dismount from our horses to lead them inside.

We don’t get very far into the tunnel before we encounter a problem. We find a giant, sticky web stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall, thick and tightly woven. “I do not like the look of this,” I mutter. I try to search the shadows beyond the web, but there’s nothing to see, the darkness too complete beyond the circle of our lamplight.

Sheik touches the little fire to the white strands, and the whole thing goes up in flames all at once, the blaze baking our faces before it runs out of fuel and dies away to nothing. We all draw our weapons before continuing on.

Our footsteps seem so loud, so very loud on the stone ground, and our lantern is a blazing beacon, announcing our approach to all watching, but there’s nothing to do about it. We need the light.

And then the beast looms up out of the darkness.

It lunges before I can get a good look at it, but I see too many flailing legs for comfort and a set of gnashing fangs. I cry out as I stumble back, knocked into the wall by Tall Link’s wild leap away from the creature. Some of the leftover webs cling to the back of my cloak and keep me trapped there. The horses rear and buck, whinnying in distress, but they get caught on each other and can’t flee as they’d like to.

“It’s underbelly!” Sheik yells. “That’s its weakness.”

His light falls fully on the monster. It’s one of the dreaded Skulltula. Its white and black body seems to fill the tunnel, and its eight angular legs are tipped with sharp points. Its mandibles are as long as my forearm, and they drip a viscous, white liquid, eyes glowing green as it glares at us.

My spine goes watery, and the sticky webs become the only things keeping me upright. Tall Link knocks a leg away with his shield and lashes out, his sword slicing only air. The Skulltula hisses, venom dripping to the ground.

Sheik reaches inside his cloak and flings his hand out, a white powder flying through the air. The spider shrieks and rears up. “Now!” he yells, but Tall Link is already moving, and his sword sinks deep into the Skulltula’s underbelly.

The beast screams loudly enough to make dust rain down on our heads, and it thrashes wildly, threatening to squash Sheik and Tall Link. They jump back, though, and finally, the spasms stop, and the thing lies still. It’s not actually as big as it first appeared. Though it is nearly as tall as Shiek, it doesn’t fill the tunnel as it originally seemed to.

“Help, please,” I squeak, embarrassed that I was useless in yet another fight.

Sheik and Tall Link turn around. For a moment, they just stare at me, stuck to the wall, feet dangling an inch or so above the ground, and my face turns red. Sheik slides his dagger between my cloak and the wall, and I drop to the dirt, bits of web still sticking to my back.

“Thanks,” I say, coughing into my hand.

We have to shove the spider carcass to one side of the tunnel in order to fit the horses through. Its body is rock hard and covered with a coarse hair thick enough to poke holes in our hands and draw blood. Grimacing, I wrap my palms in my cloak and keep pushing. Eventually, we clear a big enough path, just wide enough for the horses to squeeze through. They don’t like being so close to the Skulltula, but with a bit of cajoling and more than a few threats, we convince them to pass through.

The rest of the tunnel is quiet. We pass the Deku Baba’s corpse, slowly decaying where it rests, and the sunlight begins to leech back into the darkness, turning it grey then crystal clear. We step out into the winter coated Faron Woods, and I let out a slow sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized it until now, but there had been a constant pressure pushing down on my shoulders, a never ending weight, the whole time we were in the Lost Woods, and now that it’s gone, I can close my eyes and take a deep breath.

We file through the metal gate, and Sheik shuts it behind us, securing it as best he can without a proper lock. “So, we need supplies,” Tall Link says. “We can’t make it all the way to Lake Hylia on what we have.”

“Ordon Village is the closest,” I say. “There’s nothing else unless we want to back track all the way to Castle Town.”

“You’re right,” Sheik agrees. “Not since Lon Lon Ranch was abandoned.”

Tall Link visibly perks up at the idea of returning to Ordon Village. He’s got the ring in his pocket. He’s got something worth fighting for. As for me, I only feel dread at the thought of facing my parents.

There are only a few hours of strong daylight left, but they’re enough to get us to the tiny village. The gnawing sensation in my stomach grows with each step, and I feel as if I’m sinking into the earth, whereas Tall Link grows more buoyant the closer we get. I snuck out. I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t even leave a note.

_What if my parents don’t let me leave again?_

Sheik knocks on their door as the dusk gathers around us. I hide myself behind Tall Link. My father is the one who answers, and his eyes grow wide at the sight of us – well, the sight of them, because I’m pretty sure he can’t see me yet – then he steps back, grabbing Tall Link by the arm and dragging him inside as he calls for my mother.

I follow Sheik in, sidling into the shadows cast by the tall cabinet beside the door, but Sheik gives me a frown and pulls me out, keeping hold of my arm so I’m forced to stay in the light.

My mother clatters down the stairs and lets out a strangled sound when she sees Tall Link. She rushes to embrace him, pulling his face down so she can get a good look at it, tears on her cheeks. Then she gasps when she realizes what he’s wearing. “That tunic! Tall Link, are you…?”

“The Hero Chosen by the Gods?” my father finishes. Their voices both turn reverent and awed.

“Is Ilia here?” Tall Link asks instead of answering her question.

She shakes her head sadly. “Oh hon, I’m sorry. She went to visit her grandmother. She won’t be back for another two days.”

In her old age, my grandmother decided to shun the company of the village and move about a half day’s journey away to live on her own. My parents hate it just a little bit when Ilia goes to visit her because they’re worried it’s not safe, but they can’t stop her.

“Oh.” Tall Link’s face falls. “That’s – that’s okay. We’ll wait, or we’ll go down to see her.”

“No,” Sheik says. “We have to leave first thing. Our mission is more important than anything.”

“What exactly is your mission?” my father asks, but then they notice me.

The mood in the room shifts instantly. My father’s eyebrows draw together like thunderclouds, and he snatches my away from Sheik, dragging me across the floor so fast I stumble. “You! Just what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“Father, I–”

He bowls over me. “Bed empty, no note, horse gone! What the hell were you thinking, young man? You could have gotten yourself killed. You could’ve gotten somebody else killed!” At that, he steps and looks around our group. “Where’s Rusl?”

“A bandit killed him. It was nobody’s fault.” Sheik’s kind enough to lie for me.

It’s obvious from the way my father’s fingers tighten around my arm that he doesn’t believe Sheik. “Go upstairs,” he orders, shoving me towards the stairs.

“But, Father–”

“Now!” He seizes me by the arm again and storms up the steps, nearly wrenching my shoulder from its socket. I pull at his fingers, voicing garbled protests, but he ignores me, stomping down the hall to my room. He shoves me inside. The door slams shut, and the lock clicks.

“Hey!” I yell, pounding my fists against the wood. I hear his footsteps recede back down the hallway.

I sink to the ground, tears pricking at my eyes, and before I can stop them, they start running down my cheeks. I draw my knees up to my chest as my whole body shakes. Some stupid part of me had hoped that my parents would be proud or impressed. They always said I never did anything. I thought that going on a mission to save the world, well, surely that ought to count as doing something. But they’re just mad, just think that I’ll make everything worse.

And maybe they’re right. What have I done since I ran away? I got Rusl killed. I’ve been on my ass, helpless, for every single fight.  If I go with them to Lake Hylia, I’ll probably get Tall Link killed. Maybe even Sheik.

I crawl over to my bed and burrow under the covers, making sure every inch of me is hidden from the outside world. Maybe I’ll just stay under here for the rest of my life.

Time blends into itself. I may be asleep or I may just be floating, suspended half in my body and half out of it. There is nothing but the darkness, and for that, I’m grateful. I can’t deal with my thoughts right now. Better to be a nothing, a nobody.

“Sleepy Link?” a quiet voice asks near my head. It sounds a little like Sheik.

Maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll go away.

“Sleepy Link, it’s time to leave.”

Yeah, right. As if my parents will ever let me go with him.

“Your parents are asleep. If we go now, we can be gone before they notice. Sleepy Link?” He gently pulls the covers away, and a beam of light falls on my head. I squirm away from it.

“You don’t want me with you,” I mumble, my voice muffled.

“Yes, I do. We need you. You’re funny, and you’re insightful, and you think of things that Tall Link and I don’t. Sleepy Link, you _climbed Hyrule Castle_. That’s no mean feat. You eavesdropped on us without _me_ knowing. You killed a white wolfos.”

“I’m the reason Rusl is dead.”

“No, that was just an accident.”

I stay silent. I know it’s my fault.

“Okay, maybe you killed him. Maybe he died to save you.” Sheik’s voice grows a little harder, a little steelier. “What are you going to do with this life he gave you? Are you going to hide for the rest of your days, or are you going to do something that matters? How are you going to repay him, Sleepy Link? How are you going to repay Rusl? How are you going to make his death matter? He would want you to see this through.”

I slowly poke my head out from beneath the blankets. Sheik’s tan face is right beside mine, his red eyes burning, and my breath catches. I nod, and he grins widely at me. “Get up then. We need to be out of here before your parents awake.”

I toss the covers off fully and roll out of bed, retrieving my pack from where I dropped it the night before. I follow him downstairs and find Tall Link waiting by the door. He, too, grins when he sees me, though his eyes remain a little distant and sad. Sheik hands me a paper wrapped parcel. “Supplies,” he says. I nod, tucking it into my bag.

We slip out the door into the fresh, dim sun. There’s a small makeshift stable attached to my house, and our horses are there, waiting for us. Quickly and silently, we saddle them and lead them out, walking along beside them until we’re out of the village. Then we mount up and take off at a trot, passing the rusted fence before the dark tunnel that I never want to see again. The skeleton of the house beside the trail is completely covered by the snow that fell the night before.

Resupplied and refreshed – well, mostly – we set off towards Lake Hylia, turning east after we leave the Faron Woods and following the edge of Hyrule Field. We can’t move very quickly; the horses have to lift their knees high to clear the thick fall of snow, so we can’t go any faster than a walk. I wrap myself tightly in my cloak. It’s much colder out here without the trees to block the wind which cuts like a scythe through a field of wheat.

I hang at the back of the line. I’m still shaken up by the events of the previous night. My knives hang heavily at my belt, and I wonder if I’m worthy of them. Sheik thinks so, and I know I should trust his judgment, but that seed – actually, it’s more like an entire tree – still wiggles inside me.

We travel for a week, training every evening when we stop to make camp. I throw myself into it, determined to grow better and stronger, determined to prove my parents wrong and Sheik right. And I train for Rusl, so he won’t have died for nothing. Each night, we either sleep in a way station or we spread the goddess stones out across the ground. On one of those nights, I can’t sleep, so I sit up, staring out at the empty field around us.

The Stalfos wander through the snow, plowing deep troughs in the powder, dragging the tips of their swords behind them. They don’t notice us, hidden as we are by the goddess stones, and one even passes within a foot of us without so much as a twitch of its head. Great winged shapes soar lazily overhead, too faraway and indistinct for me to make out anything more than crooked wings and long, sinewy necks.

At the end of that week, we’re about halfway to Lake Hylia, and we’ve reached the final safe house. The Zoras don’t leave their domain, and nobody travels all the way out there anymore, so the shacks past this point have fallen into despair. Since it’s so bitterly cold, we cram ourselves against one wall, and Tall Link and Sheik let me lie in the middle because I’m the smallest. Sheik drapes the extra blanket over the three of us, and soon, the warmth envelops me. I feel myself sinking into sleep. Just before it claims me completely, I feel Sheik’s arm slide around my waist.

* * *

In the morning, we wake up late. I suppose the warmth and the spooning lulled us all into a deeper sleep than we’d experienced before. It even effects Sheik, he of the perfect internal clock. It’s actually a knock at the door that finally pulls us from the darkness.

Sheik snorts as he jerks awake, withdrawing his arm from around my waist and leaving the spot cold. He sits up, and on the other side of me, Tall Link pokes his tousle-haired head out from under the blanket and blinks blearily. The knock comes again.

“What in Din’s name?” Sheik mutters and hefts himself to his feet, using the wall for support. He buckles his belt around his waist, keeping a hand on one hilt as he goes to answer the door. I can’t see who’s there from my position on the floor, but Sheik says, “Shit,” and slams the door shut again.

“Who was it?” Tall Link asks.

“Get your weapons,” Sheik says.

I scramble up, tangled in my blankets, and fumble my belt on. Whoever’s outside knocks once more. And then they just go ahead and open the door. A woman with a foxlike, pointed face and long, black hair, one side shorn close to her head and a braid trailing over the top and down the back, steps into the shack.

My mouth drops open. “You’re dead.”

The woman smirks, flicking a curl away from her face. “Did you ever actually see my body?”

I think back to that terrible night. The night the bandits attacked. The night Rusl died. Sheik was fighting the bandit leader, the woman standing right in front of us, but then I slammed into Rusl, he took an axe to the stomach, and the fight ground to a halt. Bodies littered the snow, but now that I think about it, I can’t remember seeing her form among them, though everything had gone fuzzy by then.

“I snuck away as soon as I saw the fight going south,” the woman says. “After your older friend bit the dust. Or should I say…bit the axe.” A malicious grin spreads across her face.

I snarl and yank a knife from my belt, lunging forward, but Sheik catches me by the arm. The woman’s sword is drawn and pointed at my chest. I hadn’t even seen her pull it. “Now, I’ll be taking all your things,” she says. That smile doesn’t leave her face.

“If you hadn’t noticed,” Sheik says coldly, “there are three of us and only one of you.”

Tall Link steps forward before the bandit can reply. He’s discarded his cloak, donned his green hat, and strapped on his sword and shield. He plants his hands on his hips, the woman’s blade on an inch from his chest, the very picture of a hero. “I’d suggest you turn around,” he says, pitching his voice as low as he can.

The woman bursts out laughing. “What the hell are you supposed to be? Tingle the forest fairy?”

Tall Link hesitates but puffs himself back up again. “I’m the Hero Chosen by the Gods.”

“…You’re serious?” The woman stares at him for a long moment.

“My friends and I are on a mission from Princess Zelda herself. We’re trying to retrieve the Master Sword. If you interfere with us, you’re dooming Hyrule to be ruled by monsters forever.”

I think he may be laying it on a little heavily, but the woman is speechless. “That’s the biggest bit of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” she says finally. “And I’ll take the cute costume along with the rest of your stuff.”

“Ma’am.” My mouth opens before I know it’s going to. “Fifty years. It’s been fifty years since the monsters came crawling out of the woods and stole the night from us. Fifty years since the last hero left this world. Do you know what the stars look like? Do you know what it’s like to lie in the grass and look up at them with the wind blowing across your face? I don’t. None of us can step outside after sunset. To do so is to invite death.”

I walk forward and use the back of my hand to push her sword out of the way so I can step right up to her face. “Don’t you want to walk out among the stars without fear? Something was taken from us. Stolen. Something out there stole our freedom from us, and we didn’t even know it. Not until it was too late. Don’t you want to get that back? This man,” I point at Tall Link. “His name is Link.” I leave out the part where my name is Link, too. “He _is_ the Hero Chosen by the Gods. We _know_ where the Master Sword is. We can get it back. We can stop all this.” I pause. I look directly into her eyes. “But only if you step aside right now.”

The bandit woman stares at me for a long time. “Damn kid. That was some speech.”

My face heats up, and I hope the redness doesn’t show on my cheeks. “You could join us. You’re obviously incredibly skilled with a blade. Help us save the world. Be a hero.”

“I’m no hero.” The woman laughs derisively. “But you make some good points, and you’re kind of cute, so I’ll let you go.” She closes the last of the distance between us, and her eyes burn into mine, devilish. “Do you want to kick these other two out for a bit?”

My brain locks up, and now, my face is truly on fire. “Uh…” I choke. No one’s ever made a pass at me before. “I…uh…”

The woman doesn’t need me to say anything else. Her eyes slide past me to Sheik, and her grin takes on an amused edge. “Ah, I see. Good luck, kid.” She reaches around to smack me on the butt.

Now I’m definitely redder than a tomato.

“Well, I’m out,” she continues, sheathing her sword. “Maybe I’ll see you again, cutie.” She winks at me one last time, then spins on her heel and disappears through the door.

I flounder, wondering what I’m supposed to do with my hands or anything else. When Sheik claps his palm down on my shoulder, I jump. “Good job, Sleepy Link. That was awesome.”

“That woman hit on you,” Tall Link says with a grin. “Nice.”

My gaze slides over to Sheik, and he winks on me. I’m sure my entire head is literally ablaze.

We gather the rest of our things, stepping out into the snow. The bandit is walking back the way we came, leading a horse along behind her. She doesn’t look back at us. One by one, we lead our own animals out of the little stable and saddle up. I can barely feel the aches and bruises left on my butt from the past couple of weeks, too astounded by what just happened. I did something right. I got us out of that situation. And someone hit on me; that was a nice little jolt of confidence.

Sheik lets Tall Link take the lead and falls back to ride beside me. “That was incredible, what you did back there,” he says.

And I’m red again. I thought I was done with that. “Thanks. My mouth just kind of took over before I knew what was happening.”

“Well, color me impressed. I’m glad I brought you along.”

I laugh and glance over at him, then my stupid mouth takes control again. “Sheik, listen, I think I…” I clamp down on the next word before it can come out, panicking. I think I’d been about to say ‘I think I love you’. Mortified, I quickly look in the other direction, anywhere but at him.

“You think you what?” Sheik nudges his horse over to mine until our legs are pressed together, and then he leans over and rests his hand on the saddle just in front of my leg, putting some of his weight on it. His face is very close to mine, and I seize up. Sheik stares into my eyes and waits for an answer.

But I have none. My words, so powerful and so fully in my control not too long ago, have deserted me. They’re literally just gone.

Sheik smirks, pulling back, and tugs his white scarf up over his mouth. “You know where to find me when you remember,” he says, then he spurs his horse forward, leaving me staring at his back and wondering if I’m reading too much into his words.


	12. Lake Hylia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the school year is over, which hopefully means that I will have more time to work on my fics and you'll be seeing chapters at a faster rate!

Chapter Eleven

Lake Hylia

After another week of traveling that’s long, boring, and completely uneventful – I’m suspicious of the ease that we’ve experienced so far, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, because I know it has to, though Tall Link disagrees; he believes the goddesses have blessed our journey – we arrive at the edge of the great cliffs that surround Lake Hylia.

Sheik steps right up to the precipice, and I join him. Tall Link hangs back, looking a little green at the dizzying drop. Lake Hylia is completely coated with ice, the stiff peaks slicing into the air like daggers, an opaque white that darkens into nearly black the deeper the water gets. On the far cliff from us is a massive waterfall that climbs up the side of a mountain into what I think must be the Zora’s Domain, but right now it looks like a staircase made for frost giants, ragged blocks of ice climbing up the rock. In the middle of the lake, I see an island carrying the perfectly preserved carcass of a small, colorful building, frozen in ice and in time. To our left stretches a massive stone bridge that once upon a time was made of gleaming white stone and arched elegantly to the opposite cliff side, but now, it’s crumbled in the middle, and black marks mar the stone.

“How do we get down?” I ask.

Sheik laughs just a little. “People say that back before all this, the trip down to Lake Hylia was not for the faint of heart. I think it involved a parachute or some kind of hang glider.”

“We don’t have either of those,” Tall Link says, still well away from the edge. “So what do we do?”

“I have a really bad idea,” I say, looking up at the sky. Tall Link and Sheik turn their attention to me. “Have you guys seen those flying creatures that come out at night?”

Sheik nods. “The Kargaroks.”

“What if we lassoed a couple?”

Tall Link’s mouth drops open. “Are you mad? They’ll tear us pieces!”

“Do you have any other ideas?” I demand. Only a few months ago, I would’ve backed down if he or anyone like him had talked to me like that, but I guess things are starting to change. I’m starting to change. It’s an odd feeling. “We don’t have enough rope to scale the cliff, but we might just have enough to capture a few of those beasts.”

“It’s still insane,” Tall Link insists. “While we’re trying to lasso the Kargaroks, the Stalfos will be coming at us, too.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the great hero?” I ask, my mouth running away from me and picking up a bit of a mean edge as it goes. “Great heroes do whatever it takes. They don’t quail in the face of a little danger.”

Tall Link’s face grows thunderous, and his fists clench together. “Of course I’ll do whatever it takes,” he spits. He takes a few steps towards me, and I have to clench my teeth to hold myself in place. He stalks right up to me and looms over me, a good head taller.

I tilt my chin up so I can stare him straight in the eye. “Then prove it.”

He looks like he wants to deck me in the face; I can see it in the quiver of his lip and the angry set of his shoulders. I watch him, waiting, but he takes a deep, shuddering breath and grabs hold of his anger again, stepping back.

“Let’s wrangle up some giant, flesh-eating birds then,” he says.

I give him a nod that’s a thank-you and an apology all in one.

Now that we’ve sorted that out between ourselves, Sheik jumps back in, riffling through his saddlebags. He comes up with two of our food sacks, dumping out their contents. Hard biscuits and bits of cheese tumble into the larger packs. “Get out your rope.”

Tall Link and I hurry to find all the rope we can as up above, the sky sinks towards the flaming reds and oranges of sunset. We dump everything into a pile before Sheik who takes one of his knives and cuts a series of slits around the rims of the bags. Then he threads the pieces of rope through, creating a sort of makeshift muzzle and reins. He tosses one to me.

While we wait for darkness to finish falling, we build a fire and cook dinner, then put the horses inside the triangle made by the goddess stones. “Tall Link, you hold off any Stalfos that come for us while Sleepy Link and I go for the Kargaroks,” Sheik says. Tall Link nods and draws his weapon.

Then the nighttime coats us completely. I glance at the goddess stones, wanting to step inside and be safe, but I don’t move from my spot beside Sheik. I shiver; the temperature fell with the night. It’s not long before the first two Stalfos claw their way up out of the frozen earth. Their bony, white fingers appear first, ripping the dirt away in clods, and then the heads and the shoulders, and they tear themselves free. The two moss-covered skeletons turn to face us as soon as they gain their feet.

“You’re up,” Sheik says to Tall Link, as I turn my eyes towards the sky.

My ears pick up the sound of beating wings just as the swords clash together. I squint into the blackness of the night until I see two shadows pass over the full moon. I point them out to Sheik, and we ready the lassoes. An unearthly, bone-rattling screech rips the air as the shadows dive towards us, taking shape in the flickering light of our campfire.

The Kargaroks are fearsome looking beasts. Their black and grey patterned wings are tattered around the edges, and where the head is supposed to be, there’s just a glowing red circle, lined with black tentacles. They only have two toes on their feet, and an aura of fear radiates off them that makes my knees shake. This suddenly seems like a really bad idea.

But it’s too late to back down. The two Kargaroks are upon us. One shrieks and lunges at me, neck lashing out. I leap back, away from those weird tentacles, the wind off its wings buffeting me. “Now!” Sheik yells. I shut off my brain and jump into action.

I dance to the side as the Kargarok snaps at me again, bringing the bag up and over its red snout-head-thing. The mouth of the bag barely fits. I yank on the rope to tighten the noose, then throw one leg over the beast’s sinewy, scaly neck. With a shriek, the Kargarok launches itself into the sky, bucking and twisting, and doing everything it can to throw me off. I clamp down with my legs and yank on the rope, struggling for control. I don’t have time to look down and see how the others are doing; I could be thrown from my perch at any moment.

“I’ve got Tall Link! Let’s go!” I hear Sheik yell.

I wrap the ends of the ropes around my hands and give them a sharp tug. The Kargarok fights me, so I pull harder, digging my heels into its sides. “Go down,” I snarl, and the beast finally tips the way I want it to. I streak pass Tall Link and Sheik on their Kargarok, and my beast flies off the edge of the cliff, hurtling towards the frozen lake far below.

The bitter wind rips at my face, bringing tears to my eyes and whipping through my hair. My thighs ache, clenched tightly around the monster’s sides, and my fingers burn from the cold and strain. In the darkness of the night, I can’t tell how close the ground is getting, so I just grit my teeth and pray to whichever of the three goddesses will listen.

There’s a dark mass fast approaching, and the Kargarok shows no sign of slowing; it will kill itself if that means it has a chance to take me out, too. So I jump. I let go of the ropes, sling my leg over the side, and push off. I plummet through the air, suddenly realizing that I’ve made a serious mistake. I jumped too soon, and now I’m going to die, or at least shatter my legs against the ice.

I slam into the ground, and my feet slip, spilling me out across the frozen lake. My face smacks into the ice, blood filling my mouth. Something creaks ominously beneath me. I scramble upright, and the ice is covered in a thick enough layer of snow that I’m able to keep my balance, at least until the Kargarok lands heavily on the lake.

The ice shatters, spreading out from it’s two-toed feet towards me, and I jump away before I plunge into the frigid water. I slip, the snow thinning enough that my boots skid on the ice, and I fall again, bashing my elbows. I can feel the lake cracking and shifting under me. I find my feet again. I don’t know where Sheik and Tall Link are. At any moment, the ice could give way beneath me.

The Kargarok struggles to keep from sliding into the frigid waters, cawing and shrieking, flapping its wings desperately, its red head tipped towards the sky. Then it loses the battle, and with one last scream, it disappears through the ice. I can’t even let out a sigh of relief, because now the lake is after me. I spin and start to run, feet slipping and sliding in the snow and ice even as it gives away under me, but I keep flailing forward. I jump as I see cracks spread out in front of me, because I can see the skeleton of the house just ahead, and I simply have to hope I hit the island it’s built on. I land on something solid and roll a couple of times before coming to a stop.

Splayed out on the snow, I wait for everything to start moving and shifting again, but the ground beneath me stays still. I let out a long breath and realize that I’m shaking. Slowly, I push myself to my knees and look around. Down here, the lake is coated in a thick, white mist, and the bones of the house rise out of the snow like brightly colored teeth. There’s a gaping, black hole where all the ice broke, spider web cracks spreading out across the lake. “Sheik? Tall Link?” I call, stumbling to my feet.

The sound of cursing comes back to me, and a moment later, a dark Kargarok appears out of the mist, Sheik and Tall Link perched precariously on its back. Sheik fights with the reins, and the beast does a barrel roll. Tall Link yells, slipping out of his seat, and he falls through the air, straight into the gaping black hole in the ice.

“Tall Link!” As I run towards the hole, I strip off my cloak, tunic, knife belt, and boots, and then I dive into the water. The cold hits me like a raging Bulbo, and my vision blackens for a moment, though the water is so dark that when my sight comes back, I can’t really tell that it has, but for the faintest of light trickling in from above.

I search the murky waters for Tall Link. I thought I saw him hit his head on the way down, and I kick deeper into the lake. Finally, I see his dark shadow, and I swim towards him as fast as I can. I stretch out a hand and grab the back of his tunic, but his weight drags me down even as I kick and strain for the surface. My lungs begin to burn.

I flail desperately, but I only lose ground as Tall Link’s unconscious body pulls me down, down, down. My limbs grow weaker as my lungs ache more, spots flickering before my eyes. I stop struggling, trying to think of some solution. Then I see a light far below us, little and orange like an impossible waterproof flame. I don’t know what it is, but I push towards it anyways, using Tall Link’s downward drift to swim faster.

I don’t think I can make it. my head thuds, and my lungs heave, trying to force my mouth open, but I clamp my teeth shut, and I kick my legs together as hard as I can. Each motion makes black sparks fly across my eyes. Then, suddenly, the light is right in front of me. it breaks into glowing orbs that flank a black tunnel. I roll over so Tall Link is behind me rather than in front, and I kick us into the tunnel. I grit my teeth together. Everything hurts. I can feel myself sinking, losing control of my limbs.

Then my head bumps into a rocky wall. No. _No_. The tunnel can’t be a dead end. I drift towards the bottom, my fingers loosening on Tall Link’s collar, my eyes sinking shut.

Up above me, I see something glimmer.

A light.

I dig my feet into the tunnel floor and push off, shooting towards the glimmer in a last-ditch effort. I stretch out the hand that’s not holding onto Tall Link, and my fingers break through the water and into cold air. My head pops through next, and I take a huge, gasping breath, the air burning on the way down. I wrap my arm around Tall Link’s chest to keep him afloat, my tired legs treading sluggishly as his sword and shield try to pull us under again.

I look around. I’m in another tunnel, and the glimmer I saw comes from some kind of glowing moss on the walls. The pool of water is only a few feet across, and I swim towards the edge, slapping one hand down on the cold, damp rock. I heave Tall Link out first, though I’m not really sure how I manage it. He lies there lifelessly, hand flopped out to the side. I pull myself up and out with trembling limbs, butt here’s no time to pause or rest. Tall Link isn’t breathing, and there’s blood leaking from a cut on his head.

I crawl to my knees and lean over him, lacing my fingers together as I pound on his chest. I tip his head back, pinch his nose, and breathe into his mouth, his lips cold on mine. It doesn’t work, and I go back to chest compressions, beginning to panic when it doesn’t seem to be working. But I persist, bowing my head to give him another breath. When I pull back, Tall Link convulses and coughs, water spraying from his mouth. I drop into a sitting position and heave a sigh of relief.

Tall Link’s eyes are wild as he looks around, and they finally settle on me. “What happened? Where are we?”

“You fell into the lake,” I say. Every muscle in my body is trembling, my teeth chattering. I rub my arms; thick goose bumps run up and down them. “I tried to get you out, but you were too heavy. I don’t know where we are. Some kind of tunnel.”

“And Sheik?”

“Still up above.”

“We have to go back.” Tall Link crawls towards the pool of water, wincing in pain, but I grab his arm.

“We’re too deep. I’m exhausted, and you banged your head on the ice. We’ll never make it.”

Tall Link touches his forehead and looks surprised when his fingers come away bloody. “Then we’re stuck here.”

“Not necessarily. I bet this tunnel leads somewhere.”

“Let’s get going then,” Tall Link says. He draws his sword and uses it as support to lever himself into a standing position. He holds a hand out to me and pulls me up, holding on as my legs give out. “Where’s your shirt?”

“Up on the ice.”

“And your knives?”

“The same. As with my boots and cloak.”

Tall Link groans. “Well, that’s just great.”

“I had to take them off to come save you!” I protest.

“And I wouldn’t have fallen into the lake if it hadn’t been for your dumb idea.” Tall Link lets go of me, and I sway but don’t fall.

“So you’d rather still be up on the cliff side?” I demand.

“At least then we wouldn’t be trapped in some underwater cave!”

“Well, excuse me!” I yell, stabbing an angry finger at me. “I was just trying to help our quest! And I didn’t _have_ to jump in after you! Next time, I’ll just let you die!”

“Fine!” Tall Link shoves me, and I stumble back, my shoulder blades striking the rocky tunnel wall. “Don’t expect me to save your sorry life either.”

“I’m glad I know where we stand then,” I snarl, straightening and brushing some of the water from my stomach. I don’t get it. One night, he’s acting all buddy-buddy, telling me about his plans to propose to Ilia, and now we’re at each other’s throats. “I’m going to see where this tunnel goes. You can come with me, or you can stay here and pout.” I turn around and rip some of the glowing mushrooms from the wall, forming it into a ball in my hands.

“How far do you expect to get with no shoes and no weapons? What will you do if you encounter any monsters?” Tall Link asks, his mouth turned up slightly into a sneer.

I storm off down the tunnel. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Damnit,” he mutters, and a few moments later, I hear him stomp after me.

The tunnel marches out in front of us, straight but bumpy underfoot, and I have to step carefully to avoid any sharp rocks. The glowing fungus doesn’t provide much light, but it’s enough to see where I’m walking. The tunnel tips upwards after a bit and gets steeper the higher it climbs. Soon, I have to lean into it to keep moving forward, and my cold, numb feet slip on the rocks. Despite the physical activity, I’m shaking. It’s as cold in the tunnel as it is outside, and my soaked pants are leeching all the heat out of my body.

Then, finally, the tunnel levels out, and the rocky floor becomes smooth. I resist the urge to glance back at Tall Link. The passage ends at a low, white marble door. Naryu’s sigil – three circles set in a triangle with half moons cupping each of them – is carved into it in a darker stone, and there’s a grate at the bottom as if to let water pass through. Tall Link steps up beside me, and together, we stare at the door.

“What do you think is on the other side?” I ask.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a temple under the lake?” Tall Link says.

“One way to find out.”

Tall Link sheathes his sword and moves up to the door, bracing his hands against it. With a grunt, he pushes it open, and it grinds upwards slowly until something inside catches and it reaches the top of its frame. Tall Link and I walk through and find ourselves in a vast circular room, lit by more of the glowing mushrooms and the orbs like I saw outside the tunnel. The temperature jumps up, and it feels like I’m standing by a lake on a warm summer day, though a frigid breeze still brushes across my back from the tunnel behind me.

The tiled floors are slick and wet, and they lead to a deep basin filled with clear water that takes up most of the room’s center, a pillar rising out of it to the ceiling far above. I crane my neck to look up. It seems like there are three or four floors above us, each ringed with a disc of stone like the one we’re standing on, and various walkways lead from the pillar to the floors at various intervals. The tiles and stones are all muted reds, blues, and whites, and the big room and pathways look like they were carved right out of the stone. Water drips quietly over everything.

“I’m guessing we have to go up,” I say, pointing at the long staircase that climbs from our level up to the ceiling.

Tall Link takes the lead, practically pushing me out of the way, but I let him since he’s the one with the weapons. I scan the ground as I follow, searching for a rod or even a nice rock, but the temple is free of debris. Tall Link places his foot on the first step, and I feel a whisper of wind on my bare back. I spin; part of the wall behind us has fallen open, and out of the square walks a massive, armored lizard. “Uh, Tall Link?” I say, reaching back a hand to catch his tunic.

“What now?” His voice trails off. “Oh shit.”

The lizard brandishes its small, square shield and its curved sword. Its green and brown scales shimmer in the glowing light as it comes towards us, and its lips pull back from its long snout, revealing yellowed teeth.

“Get behind me,” Tall Link orders. I have no way to fight, so I obey.

The creature, two feet taller than Tall Link at least, bounds forward, covering the ground between them in a second, and their swords clash. I pull my attention away from the fight; I need to make sure there’s nothing else sneaking up on us, maybe find a weapon. But the temple is quiet, perhaps eerily so.

A rough shriek startles me just as I’m leaning over the edge to peer down at the pool of water below, and I nearly fall in. Flailing, I catch my balance and spin around. Tall Link’s sword sticks out of the lizard’s chest, a black ichor dripping from the wound. He slides the blade free, and the beast crumples to the ground. Immediately, the corpse dissolves into an oily, black smoke that sinks through the temple floor, leaving nothing behind.

“What in Din’s name?” Tall Link breathes.

I shrug. I’ve never seen anything like that before. There’s not a shred of the lizard creature left.

_“Champion.”_

   The word fills the entire chamber, spoken by a melodic, lilting voice that’s delicate and regal yet rumbles within my chest. I turn, searching for the source, and find myself blinded by a white light. But it’s a soft light, and after a moment, I squint through it, and a beautiful form takes shape, floating over the pool of water, wreathed in a white mist.

A gorgeous, female Zora stares benevolently down at us, her hands spread out in welcome. She looks different from how I imagined a Zora, tinged red instead of blue, and a mane of wavy, coral hair cascades over her shoulders. Her scaled tail disappears into the mist, and two fins are attached to her back, floating gently in the air.

_“My name is Rutela, and I welcome you to Lakebed Temple. Long have I waited for a hero of your caliber to come here, and when you defeated my Lizalfos, I knew that you were the champion who would be able to help me.”_

“You sent that beast after us?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

 _“Yes. It was a test. I apologize if it harmed you, but I needed to make sure that you were the true champion.”_ The Zora, Rutela, smiles down at us, and something about it makes me shiver even in the warm temple air.

“Why do you need a champion?” Tall Link sheathes his sword and slings his shield across his back, and walks up to the edge of the pool.

Rutela floats closer, coming down to our level, and I can see deep lines in her face which had looked so young from afar, and her eyes are black as night. _“A darkness infests this temple. It has been here for many years, and I cannot expunge it. I need a mortal champion to do so. Can you kill it for me, Champion?”_

“Of course,” Tall Link says. “Do you know where it is?”

“What is this darkness?” I interrupt before Rutela can answer. “How did it get here? What does it want with the temple?”

Rutela turns those black eyes to look at me, and I take a step back, but I don’t look away. _“I do not know the Hylian word for it,”_ she says finally. _“In Zora, it is called,”_ she makes a strange gurgling sound, _“and it is a most fearsome beast. It slithered up from the Shadow Realm and planted itself in the basement of this temple. As for what it wants, I do not know. Power, I suppose.”_

Tall Link looks at me. “It’s searching for Link’s body. It wants the Triforce.”

“In all likelihood,” I agree. I turn my attention back to Rutela. “And who are you? Why are you here?”

_“My name is Rutela. I was once Queen of the Zoras, but I died during the Twilight Years. I met the Hero Chosen by the Gods and gifted him with the mighty Zora Armor so that he might save us all. Once the war was over, my bones were brought here to rest so that my spirit might protect this temple.”_

I nod. Her story makes sense, but I shiver again. As she talks, her voice buzzes every so often, and her form flickers, the change almost too fast to catch.

“Is Link’s body here?” Tall Link asks. “He came here when he was dying.”

 _“He did.”_ Rutela inclines her head once. _“Though I do not know where he was finally laid to rest.”_

“We have a friend up above. Is there a way to get to him? He’ll be able to help us fight this beast,” I say. And he’ll be able to tell whether or not there’s something strange going on here. A suspicion nibbles at the back of my mind, but I can’t put a pin on what it is exactly.

Rutela shakes her head. She looks apologetic. _“The temple is sealed until the beast is defeated.”_

Convenient.

“Point us in the right direction,” Tall Link says. He gives me an odd look, telling me to be quiet.

_“There is a passage beneath the water. It will take you down to the beast’s chamber.”_

“Yeah, we can’t breathe underwater,” I point out.

 _“Of course, how silly of me to forget.”_ Rutela laughs slightly, a beautiful, bell-like sound. Her form flickers again. _“The Zora Armor is lost to us, but I can grant you these masks which will allow you to breathe beneath the water.”_ She folds her arms towards her chest and brings them back down again, and two wooden masks, carved like mini shields, meant to cover the chin and nose, appear in her palms. They float over to us and drop into our palms, weighing nothing. I turn mine over and over, wondering how it works, but my best guess is magic.

“We will not fail you,” Tall Link promises.

 _“This I know. Thank you, Champion.”_ Rutela’s ghost fades, taking the glowing white mist with.

“Let’s go,” Tall Link says.

“Hang on, let’s talk about this,” I say before he can slide the mask on his face. “You don’t think anything seems off about this?”

Tall Link stares at me as if I’ve turned into a Zora or grown another head. “What’s weird about this? The spirit of this temple needs our help. There’s darkness here, and we need to kill it. That’s what we do.”

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling,” I say, though I’m suddenly uncertain that it’s all not in my head. “Wouldn’t we see evidence of the darkness like we did in the Lost Woods temple? And Rutela knows exactly where the beast is but can’t do anything about it?”

“She’s a ghost,” Tall Link points out. “What’s she supposed to be able to do?”

I hesitate. He has a point. Maybe I’m just overreacting, seeing threats everywhere, even in something perfectly innocent. “Well, I, I don’t have a weapon.” It’s lame, and I don’t know why I say it.

“Maybe you should stay here,” Tall Link suggests. He says it a little coldly.

I puff up, offended. “Like hell. I’m coming with.”

Tall Link shuffles his feet and looks away from me. “Sleepy Link, no offense, but you’re not that great of a fighter.”

I stagger back, hurt, tears filling my eyes though I will them not to. “W-what?” I say.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tall Link says, his brow furrowing. “You know it’s true.”

I do, but I’d almost put that behind me, almost convinced myself that I could handle myself and be of service to the group, but just a few short sentences ripped all that away. “I—I killed that white wolfos.” Maybe if I can convince him, I can convince myself, too.

“You stabbed it from behind while Sheik and I distracted it,” he reminds me.

“I–” I run out of words and fall silent. What he says is true. The breath goes out of me, and with it, the strength in my legs, and I drop to my knees.

“Just wait here,” Tall Link says. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He slaps the mask on his face, and it molds onto him, the pointed end covering his nose and the curved bottom wrapping around his chin. Then he spins on his heel and dives into the water, his body arching through the motions perfectly. With a splash, he’s gone, and I’m alone on the damp floor.

I rub at my eyes, and my hands come away wet. I wipe them off on my pants as if there’s someone around to see it. I sigh, dropping my head to rest on my knees. That feeling that it would be best if I just stayed here is back again. Let the real hero handle it. No, stop. _Stop_. You were over this, past this. I pound my fists against my legs. I can’t keep letting a couple of comments shatter all the confidence that I’ve built up.

Slowly, I stand, wiping my eyes again, and pick up the mask from where I dropped it when I collapsed. I slide it up over my face, and the wood melds to my bone structure. I was worried it would feel claustrophobic or suffocating, but it just feels like I’m wearing a cloth over my mouth and nose. I take a running start and dive into the pool. The water is cool but not cold when it hits my body, and I slice down into the clear blue depths. The pool is deeper than I expected, stretching down, the bottom hidden in shadow. The pillar in the center is covered in green algae that waves slightly in the softly drifting currents.

I kick towards the bottom, the water growing colder the deeper I go. The pool floor is covered with different kinds of plants, some with broad green leaves and others with round, narrow stalks that would probably be colorful except that the blue water washes out all the other hues. I float amongst them and look around. There’s a patch of wall in front of me that’s darker than all the rest, and when I swim over to it, it stretches out into a dark tunnel a lot like the one I found at the bottom of the lake.

I take a deep breath. Like an idiot, I left my glowing moss up above, and I look over my shoulder, considering whether or not I should go back and get it. But there’s a bad feeling wiggling in the pit of my stomach, though I still can’t figure out what it is. It has something to do with that Zora’s ghost, and I know Tall Link is in danger. So I swim into the dark tunnel and am soon swallowed by the shadows.


	13. The Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said chapters would be coming at a faster rate but I guess I lied. I knew what was going to happen in this chapter, but I was having trouble finding the right words. Also I was busy finishing my novel - which I did! The first draft is done, now I have lots of editing and revising ahead of me. Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and please leave a comment; I love hearing from my readers!

Chapter Twelve

The Beast 

I swim with one hand held out in front of me to make sure I don’t run into anything, because the tunnel has turned dark as pitch. I can see the faintest glimmer of light if I turn my head back the way I came, but in front of me, there is only blackness. A current shifts against my face, but it’s so light that I can’t tell which way it flows, and every so often, something slimy brushes against my leg. I flinch every time, convinced they’re tentacles searching for their next meal.

The darkness is like a physical entity all around me, pressing on my chest, making it hard to breathe through the mask. I can’t really tell if I’m moving, and I hope to Din I’m not just stuck in place, the image of myself swimming at a standstill for all eternity lodged in my head. A sharper current brushes my face, short like something swimming by. I freeze. The current comes again, flowing over my side, and I spin to face it without thinking, my breath rasping quickly through the mask.

The current disappears, and I’m left staring into the darkness with no idea which direction I’m supposed to be heading and the terrible, lurking feeling that I’m not alone. Even though the current has fallen still, this feeling lurks within my stomach, within my bones, and I try to breathe quietly, to barely move my limbs as I float. I strain my ears, wondering if I’ll be able to hear it through all this water.

Minutes pass, and nothing jumps out at me or wraps a slimy tentacle around my ankle, so I pick a direction and start swimming. My hand, stretched out in front of me, bumps into a cold, rock wall, so now I’ve narrowed it down to two directions, and I’ve gone so far down the tunnel that I can no longer see the glimmer of light from where I started. There’s nothing to do but pick another direction at random and hope it’s the right one.

I stay close to the wall as I swim, fingers brushing the rock. That errant current comes back, just a whisper across my face, and my heart jumps because I swear I see something flicker even through the darkness. So I flatten myself against the wall, and I will my eyes to work better, and the blackness closes in, and the tip of something brushes my foot. My whole leg jerks up, and I bang my head on the wall. A laugh, cold but filled with mirth, slides through the water around me, coils like a snake through grass, twists like a reed in the wind. I push myself down the wall until my feet touch the silty floor – it makes me feel more grounded, more in control though that anxious part of my mind knows it won’t make any difference – and I close my useless eyes, trying to focus on my ears and the way the water touches my skin.

A featherweight touches my face, like a delicate brushstroke over a canvas, and that laugh comes again, right in my ear. I lash out with my fist, movements sluggish through the water, but find nothing. Better to get moving. I keep my feet in the silt and a hand on the water as I walk with painful slowness down the tunnel, every step dragging through the water. The hair on the back of my neck prickles as my hair floats around my face.

Something slams into my back from behind, sending me tumbling forward, all the air rushing from my lungs. My shoulder bashes into the wall, a burst of pain racing over my skin, and then I sink into the silt. A strong current rushes over my head. I dig my hand down into the mud, searching for something, anything, and my fingers touch something metallic. I pull my discovery free with a squelching sound. I’m holding onto some kind of handle, and with my other hand, I can feel some kind of claw device.

The current passes by again, closer and stronger than before, and my heart clenches. I don’t like this darkness, so all encompassing and oppressive, impenetrable. It makes me feel like I haven’t a body, like I’m just a thought, floating in a void.

A thought that’s about to be eaten by whatever creature is making this current.

The water shifts around me again, and I point the device up and push the button on the side. The sound of clanking metal echoes through the tunnel, there’s a squelching thud and a rumble of pain, and suddenly, I’m yanked off my feet. Water rushes past my face, stinging my eyes, and I cling to the handle for dear life, praying the force of the surging water isn’t going to rip my mask away.

Suddenly, my ride and I burst out of the dark tunnel and into a vast underwater cavern lit by the weak rays of glowing moss. I’m hanging off an impossibly massive armored eel, blood red ridges running down both sides of its undulating body, stabilizing fins flapping. Strange, clear tentacles wave off its head, but when it turns, the head is actually just two mouths, one full of dagger-like teeth and the other pink and fleshy with dozens of tiny triangular teeth made for shredding.

I see Tall Link down below, swimming towards what looks like a slab of stone in the center of the cavern. “Tall Link!” I yell, my voice gurgling a little.

I don’t know if he actually hears me or if the giant eel monster catches his attention, but he looks up, and even from all the way up here, I can see his eyes widen. The eel rolls, whipping me through the water, and my finger tightens over the button on the handle, depressing it. With a clank, the claws detach from the eel’s body, and I’m free-floating, swirling and disoriented. The eel’s tail smacks me in the chest – somehow, I’m not impaled by any of its spikes – and I shoot towards the cavern floor, crashing right into Tall Link, and we go down in a tangle of limbs.

“Get off!” Tall Link grunts and dumps me into the mud.

I float a couple of inches off the ground and pump my arms to propel myself into an upright position. “What is that?” I ask, staring up at the eel which twists and swims at the top of the cavern. Sheik probably knows what it is, but Sheik’s not here. Oh Din. Sheik’s not here, and we’re about to face off against a giant, spikey eel monster with razor teeth. We’re so dead.

“It must be the beast Rutela told us about,” Tall Link says. He points at the white slab of stone. “I think Link is buried here. It must be trying to steal the Master Sword.”

“It’s a giant eel. It doesn’t have hands. What’s it going to do with a sword?”

Tall Link ignores me. “We need to lure it down here somehow. We’re at a disadvantage in the water.”

No, really? I hold up my strange claw device, and Tall Link nods approvingly. “That works.”

He holds my hips to keep me steady in the water as I aim, but since he has no way to anchor himself, we still bob around. I point the device at the ceiling, tongue poked out between my teeth as I watch the way the creature moves. It swims in a big circle around the top of the cavern, twisting around itself, not a movement wasted. I let out a slow breath as I press the button, and the force of the chain shooting out pushes us both down. My feet brush the silty floor. The chain stiffens as it cuts through the water, but it reaches the end of it’s length with a clank without hitting anything. It retracts automatically, whizzing back towards us at an alarming speed. It slams into its holder, knocking us back.

“Shit,” I say.

“Try again.” Tall Link lets go of my hips. I’m a little surprised he doesn’t say he’ll do it himself.

I take another deep breath and continue to watch the eel, feeling the shift of currents against my face, gauging the way the glowing moss casts shadows across the water. A deep calm settles over me. My hands don’t shake. My thoughts are empty. I press the button. The chain leaps away once more, and this time, I know it will hit. The claw latches onto the eel about halfway down its long body. Already, I can feel myself being pulled towards it.

“Uh, what now?” I say.

“Reel it in.”

I should’ve known how that would end, but I got a little bit overexcited. The eel monster weighs many, many times me. I don’t reel it in. It reels me in.

I’m yanked away from Tall Link, and I let out a yelp of surprise. Tall Link grabs my bare foot before I can get too far away. The eel gets very big, very fast, and then I slam into its scaly side, Tall Link crushing me against it. My legs flail as the beast rolls, and I cling to the claw device as Tall Link clings to me. He crawls up my legs, gripping fistfuls of my pants until his chest is pressed into my back.

“Stab it,” I wheeze.

Tall Link slides an arm under me so he doesn’t float away – the eel still twisting and turning, seemingly unaware of our presence – and reaches for the hilt of his sword. With a grunt, he frees it. The eel goes into a barrel roll, and we’re lifted away from its body until we’re perpendicular to it, and when we bang back down, Tall Link’s sword skids off its scales and is jolted from his hand. My claw device is hooked between two of the ridges and under a scale, and that’s how its hanging on. “Shit,” Tall Link says, craning his neck to watch the sword float away.

“Are you holding on tight?” I ask.

“Uh, yes?”

“Good.”

The claw lets go, and as we drift away, I point it towards the eel’s head and shoot the claw towards it. The metal hooks catch on the ridge just behind the first set of teeth. _Please don’t eat me,_ I think, and then I let the chain pull us forward. We’re jerked to a stop, those long fangs just a few inches away. A green scum coats them, poison, probably.

“Give me your hat,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because I have a really bad idea.”

Tall Link shrugs and passes the triangular, green hat over. I stick my hand inside and flex my fist. Supposedly, this thing is magical, and I really hope that’s actually true as I reach for one of the fangs. I wrap my fingers around the base, cringing as I wait for the burn of venom eating away at my skin, but it doesn’t come, so I give the fang a tremendous yank. It comes free with a wet pop.

The eel roars and convulses, twisting its body into knots, and the claw shakes free. I have no free hand with which to catch myself, but Tall Link grabs the base of one of the eel’s spikes, and he flings his free hand out to me. “Toss me the fang!”

I shove the hat towards him, and it floats across the space between us with agonizing slowness, seeming to stall halfway across. Then the current shifts, brushing the hat closer to Tall Link, and he’s able to wrap his fist around it. The eel contorts to face me, to show me those two, gaping mouths and those rows of teeth. It lunges towards me, head snapping forward like that of a loaded spring, and my fist tightens around the claw device in fear, finger pressing the button on the side, and then I’m suddenly zooming towards the bottom of the cavern. The eel’s mouth shuts just a foot away from my flailing leg, but it doesn’t shut like a normal mouth, it squeezes shut from all directions.

My back slams into the corner of the stone slab, and I tumble off, sinking into the silt, and by the time I shake myself loose and swim over the slab, the eel is so twisted up and curling around itself so that I can’t see Tall Link. And it’s moving too fast for me to get a lock on it with the claw device.

Suddenly, the eel shrieks, its mouths stretching towards the ceiling as that flexible jaw works. I see Tall Link rip the fang free, raise it over his head, and stab it back down again. The eel’s second yell makes the water around me tremble. Its long body sinks as it thrashes, and by the time it reaches the bottom of the cavern, it’s completely still, and its mass causes great plums of silt to puff up through the water.

“Tall Link!” I yell, voice garbled as I swim towards the corpse. I spy the shining hilt of his sword and pull it free.

Tall Link appears over the top of the eel, floating down towards me. “I’m okay.”

Relief floods me. I’d been convinced the creature had squashed him. I pass him his sword, and together, we swim towards the white slab of stone. The eel’s body curls around it almost protectively, but we go up and over it, and at Tall Link’s touch, the top of the box dissolves away to nothing. I stare inside, speechless, breathless.

The Hero Chosen by the Gods lies before us, untouched by the ravages of time. I can see hints of Tall Link’s face in his, in the sharp cheekbones, but also hints of my own face in the gentle jawline. His dark gold hair waves about his forehead, and his eyes are shut. The Master Sword, encased in its blue and gold sheath, lies on his chest, his hands closed over it just below the winged hilt. He wears a simple traveler’s garb, and there is a metal shield bearing the Hylian crest propped next to him.

“Do we just…take it?” Tall Link asks.

“I guess?” I say, but that seems a little sacrilegious.

Tall Link reaches a hand toward the Master Sword, but his fingers pause just above it. “Isn’t there supposed to be a spirit or a ghost or something telling us it’s our destiny to take the sword?”

I shrug. “Maybe it’s sleeping?”

Tall Link takes a deep breath then wraps a hand around the sword, lifting it out of the tomb. He pulls it to his chest and cradles it reverently.

After three beats, the cavern begins to rumble, the water around us trembling. Giant rocks crack off the ceiling and sink towards us, plummeting through the water with surprising quickness. I lunge out of the way of one, feet sinking into the silt, movements launching with painful slowness.

“Put it on!” Tall Link yells, shoving the Master Sword towards me.

I panic as the weapon floats through the space between us. “What? No, I–”

“You have to. I need my hands free, and we need to move, _now_.”

My hands grab around the sword, and I sling the strap over my head, securing the belt around my waist. We spin and take off towards the tunnel we came through, ducking and weaving as the cavern comes down around our heads. The Master Sword is a weight across my back. We make it into the mouth of the tunnel, but the rain of stone doesn’t stop. If anything, it gets worse because of the narrow confines. A rock strikes me in the shoulder, and I’m pushed into the silt, lost in the darkness of the water, but I point the claw device out in front of me and pull the trigger. The hooks bite into something, and then I’m whizzing through the water, Tall Link grabbing hold as I fly by.

The tunnel continues to collapse around us, rocks striking my outstretched arm, my legs, my back. I can hear Tall Link grunting in pain, too. Then we shoot out of the tunnel, and I press the button to release the claws before we crash into the oncoming wall. We drift to a halt, and Tall Link lets go of my waist, panting.

The temple seems stable here, so we swim to the surface, pulling the masks off as our heads break out into the air. With trembling arms, I drag myself out of the pool and collapse on the marble floor, every inch of my body aching. When I sit up, I take the Master Sword off and rest it across my knees. Rutela is nowhere in sight.

“We did it,” Tall Link says, a little incredulously.

I nod. I don’t have the breath to speak yet.

Tall Link scoots back until he’s sitting beside me. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such a dick.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” He shakes his head. “I’ve been a complete ass to you, and I’m sorry. I’ve got no excuse. I was afraid.”

I look over at him, shocked. "You? Afraid? But you're always so confident, so self-assured. You always seem like you know what you're doing."

He sees my expression and nods. “Yeah, I was afraid. I am afraid. It’s a lot, you know, to suddenly learn that you have to live up to the legacy of the greatest hero who’s ever lived. It was terrifying, is terrifying. I knew what I was doing in Ordon Village; ranching makes sense to me, but this is a whole other set of rules."

"Everyone in Ordon Village looks up to you. I was always jealous of you, of the way my father would go to you for help and ignore me. I was useless." This is the first time I've said this aloud, and I look down at the ground, away from Tall Link.

"I always felt a little weird about how your father seemed to chose me over you. I'm sorry for that." Tall Link tries to duck his head to look at me, but I curl away.

"You're the son he always wanted. Not me. _Sleepy_ Link. Should've been Useless Link." I spit the name out.

Tall Link puts his hand on mine. "Sleepy Link, you're anything but useless. You’ve been doing everything I’m supposed to be doing. You killed the white wolfos, you convinced that woman to let us go – she just laughed at me – it was your idea to wrangle those birds while I was just paralyzed by my fear of heights. You’ve saved my life, I don’t know how many times. You jumped into a frigid lake to save me, and you're the reason we defeated that eel.” He sighs and buries his head in his hand free hand. “You’re so much better at this than me. Really, you are," he adds when I make a scoffing sound in the back of my throat. "I've been lashing out at because I was afraid that I wasn’t worthy, afraid of doing something wrong. I was afraid that Zelda and Sheik made a mistake and the hero's tunic was actually supposed to go you, which I know is a terrible thing to say because you'd make a great hero. Maybe a better hero than me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve always looked up to you,” I say because I don’t know what else to say, because what do you say when someone bares their soul to you like this? “And if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been scared out of my mind this entire time.”

Tall Link laughs, a bright sound in this gloomy temple. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. Will you accept my apology, Sleepy Link?”

I nod. “You’re my hero, you know.”

He turns bright red and looks away from me. He claps his hands and hops to his feet with a groan, reaching a hand down to help me up as well. “Where’s Rutela, do you think?”

I go to take his hand, but before I can, a shocked look freezes onto his face, and a warm splatter hits my cheeks. Suddenly, there’s a gaping hole in his chest near where his heart should be, ragged and bloody, sharp, white bits of his ribcage poking out at odd angles. His mouth works, trying to say something, his shaking fingers trying to reach the wound but not making it much past his waist, blood already seeping from his lips. I sit, shocked and paralyzed, as a closed, translucent fist pulls out of the hole, and then Tall Link collapses, face first, into my lap.


	14. Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, I'm sorry I'm so terrible. I know this took a really long time. I knew what was going to happen, I just had a lot of trouble finding the right words for it. I hope it's worth the wait though!

Chapter Thirteen

Destruction

 

No.

_No._

Tall Link’s head rests in my lap, his blood pooling all around me, soaking into my pants, warm and sticky. No, no, no. I roll him over so his face looks up at me, eyes panicked but somehow still alive, and he stares at me desperately, mouth working to say something, but all that comes out is a wet clicking sound. I press my hands to the gaping wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but the hole is too big, and I can feel the sharp edges of his ribs against my fingers.

I look up, unable to bear the sight of Tall Link’s agony, and I see Rutela floating above us. She’s changed. Her edges are sharper, and her coral hair, rather than being tinged pink, is rimmed with red. Her eyes are two black orbs. Her hand, down by her side now, drips red rubies. “What did you do?” I demand, more like sob.

 _“Not much of a champion, was he?”_ Rutela sneers. _“Though he did his job, defeating that guardian for me.”_

Tall Link’s hand crawls inside his ragged tunic, and then he presses a small object into my palm. It’s the wooden box with leaves carved into the lid, the box that contains his ring for Illia. I shake my head, tears sinking down my cheeks. “No. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to give it to her yourself.” I know that this is not true.

 _“I enjoyed watching you squirm in the tunnel. It was quite amusing.”_ An eerie, echoing laugh, just like the one I heard in the black tunnel, wafts through the cavern. _“And you’ve done me a great service, bringing this to me. I thank you.”_ Rutela floats down and reaches for the Master Sword, black veins running along her arm.

I hook my foot around the hilt and pull it away. “Don’t touch that.”

Rutela laughs again, the sound making me shiver, and she swoops down and snatches the sword away from me, her claw-like hands wrapping around the blue and gold hilt. Power rushes through her, the darkness in her veins growing thicker, and her hair lifts off her shoulders, crackling with energy. The blade of the sword turns black as she draws it from the sheath, the Triforce in the hilt glowing with shadow. I don’t know how that’s possible. It just is. Her laugh turns into a cackle.

 _“Such power,”_ Rutela gasps, lifting the weapon to examine it. _“Such unimaginable power.”_

I look away from her and the sword and down at Tall Link in my lap. He’s fallen still without me noticing. His eyes stare placidly up at the ceiling, two glassy orbs, the brilliant blue color already dimmed. “No,” I choke out. My hand wraps around his cheek as if its touch, its warmth, will bring him back to life. All it does is leave red streaks on his skin.

A dark anger rushes over me. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Tall Link isn’t supposed to be dead. He’s supposed to defeat the darkness, save Hyrule, and marry my sister. This ghost stole all that from him. His blood coats my hands. His head is heavy in my lap. I glare up the length of the Master Sword at Rutela. _“What do you think, boy? Shall I kill you with the hero’s blade?”_ Rutela asks.

“How about I kill you instead?” I ease Tall Link to the ground and pull his sword free, swinging it wildly at Rutela. It clashes with the Master Sword, and Rutela laughs again.

_“You’re cute, little boy.”_

I grip the hilt with both hands and slash again, as hard as I can. The steel passes right through Rutela’s form, and I know I’ve left myself open to a counterstrike, but I can’t stop the momentum of the blade. The ghost queen stabs at me, and I leap back, but as I do, Tall Link’s weapon slides out of my hands, splashing into the pool and sinking out of sight.

Shit.

The Master Sword flashes past my head, and I dive back, turning it into a roll, grabbing the claw device off the ground. I land on my butt and take aim from that position. The claw launches through the air with a rattle, and the teeth clamp shut around the Master Sword. When I press the button, the chain retracts, and the weapon is yanked from Rutela’s hand. She shrieks furiously at her empty palm.

I catch the Master Sword by the hilt, but it burns me, the darkness biting at my skin, and I drop it with a yelp. It clatters against the ground, leaving a shadow behind on my palm. Where the blade touches the temple floor, black tendrils spread and grow, just like in the Forest Temple. The whole cavern begins to shake, tremors rising off the pillars. Then blocks begin to crack off the ceiling and hurtle towards the floor.

This makes Rutela cackle with glee. _“You’ve done it now, child. I should thank you. You’ve saved me the trouble of tearing this hellhole down myself. So I will just take this,”_ she swoops down and steals the cursed and blackened sword, _“and leave you here to be buried with your fallen hero.”_

“No!” I yell, lunging forward, but my hand goes right through her trailing dress, and my fingers are chilled to ice. Rutela disappears into the water.

A boulder crashes down just a few feet away from me, shattering on impact and spraying me with shrapnel. I lunge back just in time to avoid being crushed by a second rock, and when I look up, giant cracks race through the ceiling, growing longer and deeper with every second. I glance back at the spot where Rutela disappeared, aching to chase after her, but the next bit of ceiling splashes down into the pool of water, drenching me and sealing up the tunnel mouth.

The temple begins to collapse with a greater vengeance. I spin around to race back to Tall Link’s …to Tall Link’s body, to get us both out of here, but there’s just a pile of rocks, and when I get closer, I see that a hand, pallid in death, pokes out from under the stones, palm turned towards the ceiling. “No!” I throw myself at the rocks, digging my fingers under one, muscles straining, but I can’t get it to budge. I try a different rock, but it’s the same thing.

I know what Tall Link would say. Go. Leave me here. Don’t get yourself killed because of me. Just go. But I can’t bear the thought of leaving him here in the dark, buried amongst the ruins of the temple. Then another piece of ceiling slams down on top of the pile, spitting sharp bits of gravel in my face, and Tall Link’s hand spasms, then dark red blood oozes out from around it. The color blurs as tears fill my eyes.

I clutch Tall Link’s box so hard the edges bite into my palm and take a deep breath, my whole body shuddering. “I’m sorry, Tall Link. I’m so sorry.” My voice is thick and cracked. I curl my fingers through his and give them a light squeeze. “I’m sorry.” My fingers come away smeared with more blood. My hands are completely red by now.

Tucking the little box securely into my waistband, I point the claw device at the top of the center staircase and press the button. The chain shoots through the air between the falling rocks and sifting dust and slams into the staircase about a foot below the top. “I’m sorry,” I say again, staring down at Tall Link’s burial mound, then the claw device jerks me off the ground while I pray that a falling rock isn’t going to hit me on the head. I get my legs between me and the wall and catch myself when the chain comes to an end. The staircase shudders and shakes as I climb up onto it, and I have to stay crouched down to keep from falling off again.

A hole has opened up in the ceiling, letting sunlight and frigid air pour through. I launch the claw at the edge of the hole just as the staircase crumbles beneath my feet, and in a few seconds, I’m rolling out into the open air which hits my skin like a million tiny knives. I find myself on a ledge beside the frozen waterfall, about fifty yards above the lake. I can’t see Sheik anywhere, but I don’t have any time to look for him, because the ledge and the mountain around me are still shaking themselves to pieces.

My perch breaks away from the cliffside, and suddenly, I’m plunging through the air, bumping and scraping down a near-vertical drop while I cling to the top edge, trying not to scream. All around me, more of the cliff breaks up along with parts of the frozen waterfall. These crack into jagged razor sharp swords and daggers, and I press myself as flat as I can so I don’t get shredded.

I glance down and am shocked to see that the ground is right there, big and black and hard. I gather my legs under me and push off my makeshift sled, flinging myself out into the open air before it can smash into the ground. I crash land in a deep pile of snow, sinking deep as all the air rushes out of my lungs. I flounder up right just as a shard of ice hits the snow beside me, and I cringe away, snow showering my face. Beneath me, the lake begins to crack and shift under the weight of all the falling boulders.

I scramble upright, sinking deeper into the snowdrift, struggling to turn away from the cliff. I still don’t see Sheik anywhere, and I shout his name, practically having to swim through the snow, my arms wind milling. I’m cold, so cold. The snowflakes are like thousands of needles against my skin, and I swear the wind is going to cut me in two. It gets harder and harder to move forward as the lake gives way beneath me, frigid water brushing the soles of my bare feet.

There’s no way in hell I’m going back into this freezing lake, so I point the claw device at the corpse of that old house and hope that the teeth will be able to sink into the frozen wood as I pull the trigger. I’m jerked into the air just as the ice beneath me gives way completely. “Sheik!” I bellow, the wind ripping my voice away.

I release the claw device when I’m about fifteen feet away from the structure, letting my momentum carry me the rest of the way. I’d hoped that the little island would be steady in the midst of the shattering lake, but it still bucks beneath me, the dark ice shot through with deepening cracks. Waves, half coated in frost, surge all around me. I stumble as I come upright, bracing myself against the house.

“Sleepy Link? Is that you?” Sheik comes out of the shack, and a wave of relief so profound it makes tears prick my eyes washes over me. My knees go weak. Sheik looks the same as ever. Wrapped in a dark cloak, white scarf pulled up over his mouth, blonde braid wind tousled, red eyes intense. For some reason, that’s incredibly comforting to me. He pauses, looking around me. “Where’s Tall Link?”

The tears come for real this time, though they freeze as soon as they hit the air, leaving my cheeks feeling tight and aching. I shake my head. It’s all I can do. But Sheik understands, and the weight of that knocks him back a step. “What happened?”

Even if I could answer, there’s no time because the island splits in two, the dark rock maw gaping up at us.

“Come on!” Sheik yells and disappears into the house.

I don’t know how that’s going to help, but I also see no other way out. Cliffs rise up all around us, slick and sheer and coated in ice, and our Kargaroks are long gone. The lake is a great, black beast all around me. So I follow Sheik inside, leaping over the giant crack, my bare feet totally numb. I pause in the doorway, shocked by what I see. I’d expected just a plain, hovel type floor, like the safe houses scattered across Hyrule Field, but instead, the whole thing has been dug out into a deep subbasement with a staircase leading down into it. In the center sits a massive, bulbous cannon that was once colorful but is now rusted and dull.

The whole world shakes, sudden and jarring, and Sheik catches me before I tumble down the stairs. He holds me by the arms, close enough to stare into my eyes. “Did you get the key?”

A hot flash of panic rushes through me. The key. We forgot all about Link’s key. Tall Link and I had been so distracted by Rutela and the eel monster and then seeing the magnificent Master Sword, and once the cavern started collapsing, there’d been no time to search for anything. We’d failed. The entire excursion beneath the lake had been a total loss. We’d desecrated a grave, lost the Master Sword – giving it up to an evil ghost – and Tall Link had died.

Sheik reads all this – if not the details then the outcome – in my face. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see the crushing disappointment drape itself over him.

Another tremble runs through the house, and a portion of the ceiling breaks away, shattering against the ground. “We have to go,” Sheik says. He seizes my hand, and we run down the stairs and over to the cannon. I really hope he’s not planning what I think he’s planning.

My things are bundled by the base of the cannon, and Sheik shoves them into my arms. “Climb inside,” he orders, moving around the side of the hulking device to tinker with something.

I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I still have to bite back a startled ‘What?’ before it can come out my mouth. I climb into the cannon, hopping up onto the base, tossing my bundle inside along with the claw device, and using my shaking, aching arms to heft myself in after them. I tumble down into the wide barrel and clutch my things – everything is wrapped up in the cloak – to my chest like a lifeline, securing the claw device to my belt beside the little bulge that is Tall Link’s box.

Sheik jumps down beside me. “Now we just have to hope that it goes off before we’re dumped into the lake.”

I can’t tell if the shaking all around us is caused by the destruction of the lake or whatever explosive device powers this cannon. “And that we don’t get blown to bits in the process.”

Sheik gives me a look that very clearly says he doesn’t appreciate my sass right now.

Then the cannon goes off. Sheik and I are blasted into the air so hard and so fast that I think my skin is going to peel off and my eyes are going to pop. I clutch my bundle to my chest and squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to see the swirling landscape – worried it will make me hurl.

Wind buffets me from every direction, tearing at my hair, making the long strands slash across my face, and the harder gusts slam into me like bulbous fists, making my already bruised and aching body throb. I don’t know how long we fly for. It feels like an eternity, an eternity cupped in the hands of a storm, my stomach leaping up and all over the place like it wants to escape. I think at one point, the pressure and the velocity forces me into unconsciousness.

I come back to awareness when the air around me begins to grow warmer. The shift begins slowly, warming bit by bit before suddenly becoming burning and acrid. The heat is just as powerful a force as the whipping winter wind we left behind. Tiny granules scour my skin as I force my eyes open, squinting. A giant, fuzzy, yellow blob is hurtling towards me. Or I’m hurtling towards it. I can’t see Sheik, but I also can’t turn my head to look for him due to the wind.

There’s no way to prepare for the landing. I feel my body tip into its descent, pulled by the weight of the earth below and pushed by my loss of momentum. Then I slam down into a bed of burning sand, sinking down, down, down, darkness flashing over my mind, but I force myself to stay conscious, terrified of suffocating without even knowing it. I clamp my eyes, nose, mouth shut, praying to Din that I won’t sink too far.

Once I start slowing, I kick out with my legs and push against the sand with the arm not holding onto my things (I’m amazed that the bundle is still clutched to my chest), but I don’t know which direction the surface is, and I can’t open my eyes to look around because of the sand. This is worse than swimming through that pitch black tunnel. The sand burns my skin if I’m moving, if I’m not moving, and I can feel it fighting to squeeze into the crevices around my eyes and mouth and push up my nose.

When my hand breaks out into the open, I don’t realize it right away because the air is just as hot as the sand. I claw my way free, tossing my bundle of things to the side so I can use both my hands. I finally drag my legs loose and roll away, lying on my back as I pant, the claw device already a hot weight against my hip. There is no breeze to stir the air. It’s just hot and heavy, so very different from what I just left. I want to wipe the sand away from my eyes, but my fingers are coated in the tiny grains, too. I lie there for another minute before I sit up and shake my head, sand cascading out of my hair and tumbling off my face.

I open my eyes. The sun blazes overhead – I can already feel it baking my skin – without a cloud in sight to stop it, though to my left, the sky is dense with heavy, grey clouds. They stop when they reach the cliff that separates the desert from the rest of Hyrule.

Struggling upright, I look around for Sheik, but all I see is sand stretching out in every direction, rolling up and down in uneven waves that are unbroken by any sort of rock formation. “Sheik?” I try to call, but I end up coughing instead because sand fills my mouth. I go to retrieve my ball of things which is nearly buried by now, and each step takes three times the effort as a normal one, and I’m panting by the time I cross the five feet to my rolled up cloak. As I do, the sand shifts and falls away down the slope, revealing Sheik’s prone form. My heart nearly stops.

His dark cloak is tangled around his limp limbs, encased in their skintight garb, coated in sand, and his head rests on a rock, blood oozing from his temple to stain his hair and the sand around him.

I drop to my knees beside him.

No. Not him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also when you're so terrible that you forget about a plot point and have to scramble and just pretend that the characters forgot about it, too.
> 
> Please leave a review!


	15. The Gerudo Pirate

Chapter Fourteen

The Gerudo Pirate

I roll Sheik over and gather him into my lap, shoving aside the sharp jab of memory of myself holding Tall Link in much the same way, and press two fingers against his neck. Relief, sharp and powerful, hits me like a hammer blow when I feel his pulse pounding away beneath them. I closed my eyes and let my head slump. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d been dead.

I brush some of the sand away from his face, patting his cheek to try and rouse him, but Sheik doesn’t stir. The wound – still oozing blood – is caked in dirt, and I know I need to wash it away, but I haven’t any water. Water. I need to find some soon. Already, my tongue is thick and dry in my mouth, my lips chapped.

So I need to find water, and shade as well. I can’t drag Sheik through the sand – I can barely walk by myself – but if we stay here much longer, we’ll die of thirst or be buried by the desert – already, the sand is creeping up over my splayed legs.

The dunes in the distance start to shift before I can come to a decision. Three vertical bumps of raised, undulating sand hurtle towards me, occasionally disappearing behind the rolling hills. I tense, the hand not holding Sheik fumbling to undo the knot in my cloak so I can reach my knives, but it’s too tight, and I’m unwilling to let Sheik go, afraid he’ll sink into the sand without my noticing. Instead, I untie the claw device from my belt and point it at the approaching lines.

I catch a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I look to the left, I see two more bumps coming towards me. There are two more to the right as well and probably more behind.

By Din, what now?

A creature erupts out of the sand maybe thirty yards in front of me, too far away to make out many details, but I see a black, bulbous, triangular body and a flash of green in the center of the round part along with a flash of white like teeth. It smashes back down into the sand and disappears in an instant.

The bumps come closer and begin to circle Sheik and me. Another one jumps into the air, and I cringe when the details are revealed. It looks almost like a giant, misshapen worm, covered in a chitinous shell. Its green eyes glow in the blazing sunlight, and three teeth snap, too big to allow the mouth to close completely. I gulp as it disappears back into the desert. I think there are at least eight of them, but they’re moving too fast for me to get an accurate count.

Din damnit, I didn’t survive a giant eel, a psycho ghost, a collapsing temple, and being shot out of a cannon, only to be killed by weird insect things in the middle of the goddesses-forsaken desert.

One of the worms leaps out of the sand, coming directly at my face, and I shoot the claw device at it. It shrieks when the teeth bite into it, and I whip my arm to the side, releasing the button when the chain is fully extended so that the thing sails away across the desert.

But now, it seems that there are even more bumps in the sand, circling ever closer, and there’s no way I can fight them off seated on the ground with only my claw device, but I’m not going let go of Sheik, and the sand is up to my waist, so I’m not sure I could stand quickly even if I wanted to.

Two worm creatures jump, both from vastly different directions and both with their white teeth flashing. I clench my jaw and prepare to shoot, but before I can, I hear another noise, a strange scraping sound across the sand. I look towards it, but the sun is directly in my eyes, and all I can see is a smudgy shadow.

Whatever it is flies into the air after leaping off one of the sand dunes. It lands on top of one of the jumping worm creatures, and the other one falls to the ground with a scream and a crossbow bolt through the throat. Some kind of boat flies past me, made of wooden pontoons and a taunt sail. The person on board is still just a dark shadow, but they yank sharply on a rope and turn so that the vessel cuts sharply across the area where the bumps are the thickest. Three worms jump at them, but I see the flash of a blade, and the creatures fall to the ground in pieces.

I watch in amazement as my savior takes care of the rest of the worms with ease, one hand controlling the sand boat and the other wielding a curved sword. When the dunes finally fall flat and still, the boat comes to a halt before me, and the sail drops, limp. The driver is still hidden by the mast. I stare, waiting, not sure what to expect and just hoping it’s not terrible.

A woman jumps down to the sand, boots hitting with a thump. She wears a pair of billowy, dark blue pants that emphasizes her deeply tanned skin, and a length of similar cloth is wrapped around her chest, the edges flapping slightly in the wind. She has a very impressive set of abs, maybe even better than Sheik’s. An embroidered bandana, flimsy and see-through, covers her nose and mouth, her dark blue eyes sharp above it. Her golden hair is tied up in an elaborate bun on top of her head, strands of it brushing the red jewel pendant around her neck. There’s one curved sword through her belt, the other still in her hand, though it’s not pointed at us.

“Well, don’t just sit there staring,” she says in an accented voice. “We’ve got to go before more of them come.”

I blink up at her. Even if I could find the words, my mouth is too thick and dry to talk.

She steps towards me, and I flinch back, my hands tightening around Sheik. The woman pauses, looks at her sword, and pushes it back through her belt, then she holds out her hand to me. “I’m not going to hurt you. This is a rescue after all.”

“Who are you?” I ask.

“There will be time for questions when you’re not half-buried in the sand.”

I look down. I’ve sunk down to my ribcage now, and Sheik still isn’t moving. I nod. The woman crouches down and eases Sheik out of my arms, grunting as she stands up. I dig myself out as she lays him gently down on the flat plank deck of the boat, gathering my bundle of things. I slog through the sand after her, accepting the hand up that she offers me. She’s easily a foot taller than I am, maybe more.

“Where are your shoes?” the woman asks as she begins to work with her ropes.

I point at my rolled up cloak. My feet are red and blistered, much like the rest of my exposed skin which is also covered in cuts and bruises of all sizes. As soon as I see them, they all begin to hurt. The worst is my palm, though, and when I turn it over, the dark shadow I got when I touched the cursed Master Sword is still there. I rub at it as if that will make it go away.

The sail swells, picking up the tiniest draft of wind, and we start to move smoothly across the sand dunes. The woman works the ropes with practiced ease. “Who are you?” I ask again.

The woman glances over her shoulder at me where I sit by Sheik’s unconscious form, his head in my lap. “My name is Tetra. And you are?”

“This is Sheik, and I’m Sleepy Link.”

“Link?” Tetra sounds shocked. “Like the Hero Chosen by the Gods?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Tetra looks confused, but she doesn’t press any further. “How did you find us?” I ask her.

“I saw you fall from the sky, and I was curious, so I thought I’d investigate.”

“Do you live out here?” I look around us, but all I see is sand, sand, and more sand. More of the worm bumps move in the distance, too, but we’re moving so fast across the desert that they aren’t a threat. I honestly can’t tell how the sand skipper works. When I was on the ground, there wasn’t a breath of wind, but the sail is taunt and humming. I think there’s a little bit of magic involved.

“Nearby,” Tetra says. She twitches a rope, and we curve to the right. “I was out scavenging when I saw you.”

“You’re a scavenger?” I ask dumbly. My brain isn’t working properly anymore, and I can’t stop worrying about how Sheik still hasn’t moved.

Tetra flashes me a smile over her shoulder. “Pirate, actually.”

“Don’t you need an ocean to be a pirate?”

“Not necessarily. This desert used to be an ocean, though. Actually, all of Hyrule was once covered in water thousands of years ago.”

I didn’t know that. It makes sense, though. Hyrule has some bizarre terrain: trenches in the middle of open land, odd, uneven mountains. They’re more understandable if everything was once underwater.

“Who do you rob?” I shift Sheik’s weight because my leg is starting to fall asleep. “Does anyone live out here?” I pause. “Are you going to rob us?”

“No, I’m not going to rob you. You don’t look like you having anything worth robbing.” Tetra laughs a little. “I steal from the Gerudo tribes’ caravans as they cross the desert.”

“Aren’t you a Gerudo?” I feel bad now because I just assumed that she was.

“I am.”

“Why do you steal from your own people?”

“What have they ever done for me?”

A structure rises out of the desert in front of us. The air shimmers like a mirage, and then, suddenly, it’s just there, big and hulking and falling apart. At some point in the past, it was a majestic and towering palace, but now, it looks more like a graveyard. Stone pillars pop out of the sand, some of them broken off at sharp points or leaning out to an odd angle, some perfectly straight and tall, all of them leading up to the main building that’s half-buried in sand, its domed roof full of holes. As we draw closer, sailing up the aisle of pillars, I can see great, crumbling statues pressed up against the walls of the building, mythical monsters that were forgotten long ago, Hylians with animal heads, skeletons wearing bits of armor.

“What is this place?” I gasp as Tetra brings us to a halt before a pair of towering doors that have been blasted open.

“Arbiter’s Grounds.” Tetra lets a little bit of wind fill the sail, and we cruise through the doors into a giant, open room. Most of the tiled floor is covered in sand, and there are more broken pillars trying to rise towards the ceiling far, far above. A statue sits on the far end of the room, two of its six arms broken off and its nose eroded away.

Sheik stirs as Tetra brings the sand skipper to a stop again and jumps off. I bend over him, brushing sand from his face. “Sheik? Are you okay?”

He groans and tries to sit up, but I push him back down when I see him grimace. “Where are we?”

“Arbiter’s Grounds,” I answer, watching as Tetra secures her boat to one of the pillars and then pokes her head outside with a crossbow in hand.

Sheik shoves my hand away and bolts upright, flinching in pain. “We can’t be here. We have to leave right now.” I’ve never heard him sound like this, almost…panicked.

I try to hold him back, but he manages to stagger upright and off the boat. “What, why?” I ask as he brushes sand off himself.

“This place had evil in it even before the darkness fell fifty years ago. Dark, angry spirits inhabit these grounds. We have to go right now.”

“You can’t leave,” Tetra cuts into the conversation and puts her hand on his shoulder, easily pushing him back down onto the boat. “It’s worse out in the desert. Stalchildren and Staltroops stalk the sands once the sun goes down.”

Sheik shakes his head vehemently. “No. This place is pure evil. Multitudes were killed here, their bones buried in mass graves, their souls trapped here to rot and fester until they darkened and fused together into a roiling mass of hatred, hungry for more souls to add to their power. If we stay here overnight, we will die.”

“I’ve been living here for years, and I’m still alive,” Tetra says.

Sheik stands up again and tries to head for the door, but his legs give out, and he collapses to the sand. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Sheik, I’m exhausted, and you’re hurt. We can’t go back out into the desert.”

Sheik looks unconvinced.

“I promise you’re safe here,” Tetra says, grabbing a few burlap sacks out of a cubby in her boat. “When I arrived here the first time, I found a room warded with sigils of the goddesses. Nothing can get in there.” She walks towards a small archway set into the wall to our right. “There are still monsters and dark things deep within the temple, you’re right about that, but they don’t come this close to the surface.” I help Sheik upright as she talks and make sure he has no way to argue or fight as I lead him after the pirate.

The room in question is small when compared to the vast main hall, but it’s still big in its own right. The floor has been mostly cleared of sand, though in the desert I don’t think it’s ever actually possible to ever be free of that constant film of dust, and one corner holds what looks like a cooking pit while another has a bed of silky blankets and pillows atop a wooden pallet.

“Put him down over there. We need to clean his wound,” Tetra says and points towards the bed.

“I can put myself down,” Sheik grumbles. I ignore him and keep his arm around my shoulders and a hand on his waist as I help him walk across the room. He groans when I ease him down.

Tetra comes back with a bowl of water, pulled from a big, ceramic jug, and a rag. She hands both of these to me then moves away again to set about stowing her belongings which were probably someone else’s belongings until very recently.

I dip the rag in the warm water and begin to very gently scrub the dried blood and sand away from Sheik’s forehead. “Tell me what happened,” he says while I work.

I sigh. I don’t want to relive it, but he needs to know. I run through the story. Pulling Tall Link from the water, the Lizalfos, Rutela. I show him the claw device when I come to that part of the tale, and he takes it from me to look it over. “This is one of the tools Link picked up over the course of his journey. I believe it’s called the claw shot. Many of the items he found were sacred, so after he defeated Ganondorf, Link returned them to their temples which is probably how this got below the lake.”

“It certainly saved my life a couple of times,” I say.

Sheik listens intently as I tell him about how Tall Link killed the eel monster and opened Link’s tomb. “And you didn’t see any sign of a key?”

I shake my head. “I’ll admit there was so much happening that I forgot about it, but all we saw on him was the Master Sword and his shield. And after Tall Link took the sword, there was no time to search for anything else because the whole temple started collapsing.”

“Makes sense. It was probably a last line of defense to protect the Master Sword.”

“Rutela said the eel was guarding it,” I say, feeling foolish over how easily she manipulated us. “She killed Tall Link and took the Master Sword.”

Sheik’s face twitches, and he pushes my hand away so he can sit up. “What do you mean _took_ the Master Sword?”

“I mean literally took.” I put the rag back into the bowl, and the water turns slightly pink. Behind us, I can tell that Tetra is listening to every word we say. “She picked it up, and the whole thing blackened, and she changed, too. Became more powerful.”

“That’s not possible.” Sheik shakes his head, full of denial. “The Master Sword is evil’s bane. She should have been unmade the moment she touched it.”

I show him my palm and the smudgy shadow there. “I tried to touch it after she did and got this.”

“Whatever that is, it’s not good,” Sheik says, grimacing as he examines my hand.

“Sorry to butt in.” Tetra walks up to us and stands beside the bed, not sounding terribly sorry at all. “You said this Rutela is a ghost?”

“Yes. She assisted the first Link fifty years ago,” I reply.

Tetra squats down. “It’s possible that the same thing that happened to Arbiter’s Grounds happened to her. Time corrupts all things, even the purest of souls. Fifty years is along time to be trapped in a dark temple, even back in normal times, but after the monsters took over the night, that corruption probably became even more powerful.”

“What are you saying?” I ask. “That time itself is…infected?”

Tetra shrugs. “Could be.”

“Infected by what?”

No one has an answer to that question.

I finish cleaning Sheik’s head as Tetra moves away to start a cooking fire. The wound is deep and the bruising around it spectacular, but hopefully it won’t get infected. I use the rest of the water to clean out my own scrapes and cuts, wincing every time the cloth touches the tender skin. My body is a mosaic of aches and pains.

Before long, the air is filled with the smell of spices and bubbling meat, and then Tetra brings three bowls of steaming liquid over to us, complete with spoons. She passes them to us, and that’s when I realize I’m starving. I don’t know how long it’s been since I ate. Sheik and I dig in even though it’s still so hot that I burn my tongue. The bowls get scoured with sand to clean them then rinsed out with just a tiny bit of water.

The sun is setting by the time we finish eating, darkness sinking in through the holes in the ceiling. Sheik won’t stop staring at the doorway out into the main chamber of the temple, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It’ll be fine,” I tell him. “Try to get some sleep.”

“We’re all going to die tonight,” he says dourly.

“Stop being such a pessimist.”

I push him down to the pillows and tuck myself in beside him, pretending it’s so I can keep him from trying to run off, but if I’m honest, it’s because I like the way his body feels pressed against mine. Tetra takes a roll of silk and curls up on a bed of sand near the cooking fire with her crossbow near at hand.

I’m so exhausted that I fall into sleep easily, sinking down, down, down, just like into the sands of the desert. Tall Link is there, waiting in the shadows, his back to me, dressed in his hero’s greens, his sword and shield slung across his back. The darkness dissolves into a forest scene that looks a lot like the Lost Woods but with brighter, friendlier looking trees. Sunlight dapples the grassy floor, and there’s a table in the center of the circular clearing that’s made from a large tree stump, two wooden stools on either side of it.

Tall Link turns. He looks just like he did in life. The sunlight glints off his golden hair, and his eyes are the same color blue as the sky glimpsed through the trees. He smiles at me. “Sleepy Link. Hi.”

I stare at him sadly, wringing my hands together. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“How is this your fault?” He sits down on one of the stools and motions for me to do the same. One moment, I’m standing, and the next, I’m sitting, dream-time collapsing the moment into an instant. “Neither of us could have predicted what happened.”

“I suspected something was off about Rutela, but I didn’t say anything,” I say.

At the sound of the ghost queen’s name, Tall Link’s face darkens, and the sunlight dims. “Sleepy Link, you must take back the Master Sword. With its power, Rutela will be able to wreck untold evil across Hyrule. She’ll be able to raise monstrosities that haven’t been seen in thousands of years, corrupt what little light is left in the temples, perhaps even release the beast trapped within the Forest Temple. No one will be able to stand against her. Hyrule will fall into darkness. Perhaps, it already has.”

“How?” I ask “She could be anywhere, and we’re trapped in the desert. When I tried to touch the sword in the Water Temple, it burned me.” I hold up my hand to show Tall Link the shadow there.

“You must find a way to cleanse the sword.”

“But how?” I ask again, frustrated.

Tall link glances off to the left, and for a moment, his form turns hazy. “I haven’t much time. Seek out the Lantern of Shadow. It will show you the way.”

“The Lantern of Shadow? What’s that? Where can we find it?” Are being vague and unhelpful two requirements of being a ghost? Or are they just traits you pick up after you die?

“I have to go,” Tall Link says instead of answering me.

His shape begins to dissolve into sparkles of light, and I lunge upright, holding one hand out to him. “Tall Link, wait. Where’s your shadow?”

But he’s already gone, and the dream sinks away, leaving me baffled and confused as I awake. I sit up, a thin silk sheet dropping from my shoulders along with a layer of sand. Sheik still slumbers beside me, his tan face looking much younger than it usually does, his golden hair unbound and tangled around his shoulders. I brush a lock away from his closed eyes, my touch light so I don’t wake him.

It’s still dark out, though I can see a faint orange glow through the holes in the roof along with the stars. It’s actually a little chilly, and I pull my wool tunic on, unrolling my cloak so I can get at it. My knives are there, too, and I loop them around my waist. It feels good to have their weight on my hips again.

I carefully climb out of bed, tucking the blankets around Sheik. Tetra is bundled up by the cooking fire, silent and still, and my bare feet make no noise as I step out of the warded room and into Arbiter’s Grounds’ main chamber. I go to the grand doors and stare out into the desert, though I don’t step outside. I can see smudgy shapes moving in the distance.

I wonder what’s going on in Hyrule right now. Has Rutela already begun her assault? Are people dying, wondering if any hero will come to save them? Is my sister safe? Did she feel it when Tall Link died? I pull his box out of my waistband and turn it over in my hands. Does the Princess know what’s happened? I hope she’ll be able to protect her kingdom, wonder if there’s some way to get a message to her.

I step away from the doors, hoping movement will help to dispel all the questions rattling around in my head. I explore the far side of the chamber, my eyes roving over the carvings on the walls. There are legions of people in chains, waiting in lines to be judged by robed figures sitting on tall platforms. There are images of emaciated people in pits or chained to walls or surrounded by salivating beasts. There are skeletons dressed in drooping rags or pieces of armor and carrying giant swords. Further along, there are beasts made of bones with red jewels set into their eye sockets, great hulking monsters of incomprehensible shapes. I find two doors – not nearly as massive as the one to the outside – but they’re both blocked by fallen stone.

Exploration options exhausted, I return to the warded chamber, and I sit back down beside Sheik, though I don’t fall asleep again. I just stare up at the ceiling and watch the sky lighten.

The sun has nearly risen when Tetra wakes up. I hear her yawn and shift as she sits up, and when she sees that I’m awake as well, she motions for me to join her by the cooking fire. I could walk, but instead, I pick the claw shot up off the ground, point it at the ceiling, and pull the trigger. I zip through the air, and when I’m over the fire pit, I release the teeth and drop down beside Tetra. She raises an eyebrow. “Walking was too hard?”

I shrug.

“Listen, you’re going to boil in those heavy clothes once the sun comes up. Come with me.” Tetra stands and takes me over to the crates stacked against one wall. “I think I might have something that will fit you, though we might have to cinch things in some spots since you’re very short by Gerudo standards.”

I’m short by Hylian standards, too.

Tetra rifles through one of the chests and then hands me a bundle of clothing. I shake out a pair of billowy, purple pants and a small piece of blue-green cloth that’s closed in the back and triangular in shape with a golden hoop for a collar. There’s also a gauzy, blue bandana, and a belt that matches the shirt. “I don’t have any men’s clothing, since the Gerudo are a race of women,” Tetra apologizes.

“It’s okay,” I say, running my fingers over the silky fabric.

Tetra turns her back so I can change, and I shed my thick, Hylian clothing in favor of these. The purple pants stop just below my knees, and the cropped shirt covers my chest and not much else, the fabric billowing slightly in the wind. The sheaths of my knives fit easily on the belt, and I hook the claw device there, too, looping the bandana around my neck rather than my mouth while we’re inside.

The clothes are actually really comfortable. The fabric is light and soft against my skin, covering me without stifling me in the heat. Tetra tilts a mirror in my direction, and I stare at myself in shock. The weeks of travel and battle have hardened my body, so I have muscles rather than just soft lines, my face made of sharper angles. I can’t help but flex at my reflection, smiling at my biceps’ definition.

Tetra laughs softly, and I blush, running a hand through my hair which now scrapes my shoulders. “Do you have a tie or something?” I ask her.

She hands me a small circle of fabric, and I loop it around my hair, leaving a lock falling over each ear, the rest of it gathered in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. She also gives me a small blue pouch for Tall Link’s box that I tie to my belt beside the claw shot. I look myself over in the mirror again.

Damn, I look good.

I blush again and look away.

“Aw, you look adorable,” Tetra says, leaning over to pinch my cheek.

Laughing, I swat her hand away and dance back.

Sheik sits up and groans, and I hurry over to him just as he tries to sit up, grimacing and lifting a hand to his head. “Hey, be careful.” I help arrange the pillows so they support him as he sits. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot out of a cannon and hit my head on a rock,” Sheik says drily. His eyes widen as he looks at me fully and takes in my new outfit. “What are you wearing?”

I wrap my arms around my midsection, suddenly self-conscious. “Um, some of Tetra’s extra clothes. She said my old ones wouldn’t be good for the desert.”

“Don’t worry. I have some clothes for you, too,” Tetra calls from where she’s stoking up the fire.

“You look really good,” Sheik says. “Nice arms.”

Is that a bit of blush I detect in his tan cheeks?

No, I’m probably just projecting my own flaming face onto his.

“Link, will you come help me with breakfast?” Tetra asks as she stirs a pot.

“Sure.” I use the claw shot to zip over there.

“What do you have against walking?” she asks.

“My name is Sleepy Link,” I correct her. She points to a packet of spices, and I pass it over to her. “Not Link.”

“Your parents named you _Sleepy Link_?”

“It’s a tradition of my village,” I explain, taking over the stirring spoon as she holds it out to me. “Blonde boys are named Link and then given a descriptive name so we can be told apart. I have a tendency to oversleep, so I got dubbed Sleepy Link.”

Tetra peers into the pot at the brown, oatmeal-like substance, frowns, and adds a dollop of honey to it. “I see. Now, tell me, what’s going on between you and Sheik?”

She winks at me as she says this, and my mouth drops open. “Wh-what? I-nothing! Nothing! There’s nothing…with us…between us. We’re just traveling together! Maybe friends! Nothing else!”

“Riiiiight. You’re very convincing.” Tetra grins mischievously and wiggles her eyebrows. I drop my head into my hands. “Come on, tell him how you feel. What have you got to lose?”

“Literally everything!” I barely remember to keep my voice down. “Besides, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Sure he does,” Tetra says. She begins to ladle the oatmeal into bowls. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to flirt. We’ll land Sheik within a week.”

“Uh…” I don’t know how we got here. I’ve lost control of the conversation, and I’m so flustered that I don’t know how to get back on track.

But Sheik saves me from having to think up something to say. “Hey, is breakfast almost ready? I’m starving.”

“Now’s your chance,” Tetra whispers in my ear.

“Shut up,” I hiss back.

She cackles, and I flee from her before she can embarrass me any further, using the claw shot to hop back over to the bed, passing Sheik the bowl of oatmeal I’m holding. “Sleepy Link doesn’t believe in walking anymore,” Tetra explains, winking suggestively at me.

“Walking does take so much effort,” Sheik agrees with a grin.

I cover my embarrassment by taking Tetra’s second bowl and burying my face in it. I can tell Tetra is still shaking with laughter. “Have either of you heard of something called the Lantern of Shadow?” I ask once I’ve finished my food. I set the bowl aside. The oatmeal was tasty, sweet from the honey with a bit of a crunch from the added nuts.

“The Lantern of Shadow?” Sheik repeats, rubbing at his chin. I can tell that his mind is racing back over all the old legends and stories he knows. A frustrated expression descends over his face. “I haven’t. Where did you hear about it?”

“I had a dream last night.” I feel a little dumb even as I say it. “Tall Link was there. He said we need to reclaim the Master Sword, and the Lantern of Shadow will lead us to it.”

Sheik shakes his head. “I don’t know anything about it.”

Maybe it was just a dream, something my grieving brain created so I could see Tall Link again. But it felt so real. The trees. The sunlight. The shape of Tall Link’s smile. Sheik knows everything, though, so if he hasn’t heard of the Lantern, then it doesn’t exist, right?

“There might be a record of it in the Gerudo Archives,” Tetra interjects as she stacks the bowls together.

“The Gerudo Archives? What are those?” I ask.

Sheik’s eyes glimmer, and he practically begins to salivate as Tetra explains. “The Gerudo Archives are the greatest collection of knowledge in the whole world. They’re housed in a magnificent building out in the center of the desert. Only a select few are chosen to be its acolytes and allowed inside.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” Sheik says. “But the Gerudo refused to grant me a pass.”

“Makes sense. They don’t allow outsiders to visit, especially men.”

“So how do we get in?” I ask.

Tetra’s devilish grin makes me very nervous. “Give me some time. I’ll think of something.”

There’s not much to do during the day. Sheik’s head is swollen and purple, and he can’t get out of bed without getting dizzy and falling over, and it’s too hot to go outside. Even in the shadows cast by the ceiling, it’s stifling hot, and I’m glad for my lightweight Gerudo garb. I can tell that Sheik is boiling in his skintight Sheikah outfit, though he doesn’t say anything. He just tugs at his collar and the hems of his sleeves, his face coated in sweat.

Tetra notices, too, and she comes over with a pile of red cloth in her arms. She holds it out to Sheik. “Here. Put these on. We can’t have you getting heatstroke.”

Sheik unfolds the bundle. It contains a pair of red paints and a cropped shirt just like mine, both embroidered with elaborate gold designs, and a gold bandana to cover the mouth. I can’t help but think about how well they would go with his hair and eyes. “I can’t wear these,” Sheik says, leaning away from them as if they might bite him.

Tetra’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Why not? Because they’re women’s clothes?”

“No. It’s the colors. Look at them; they’re garish! How am I supposed to sneak around and blend with the shadows dressed in red and gold? I’ll be spotted instantly. These colors aren’t mysterious at all. Don’t you have anything in black?”

Tetra gives him a flat look. “This is the desert. No, I don’t have anything in black.”

“How about tan? Beige? Something that will blend with the sand?” Sheik pleads. He looks a little red.

“Nope,” Tetra says with a shake of her head. “The Gerudo like bright colors.”

Sheik groans but motions for us to turn around so he can change. It takes him mere moments. “I feel so…noticeable,” he grumbles.

My jaw drops when I turn around. The red and gold colors compliment his tan skin perfectly and bring out the matching colors in his hair and eyes. The cropped shirt shows off his well defined abs, the white fingers of his burn scars crawling onto his stomach. His Sheikah eye tattoo is hidden by the shirt, and I know that if he were to turn around, I’d see those slim scars crisscrossing his back. He still wears his white scarf looped around his neck and pulled up over his mouth. It only partially hides his grumpy expression.

“Scarf off,” Tetra orders. “You’ll boil.”

“No.” Sheik folds his arms across his stomach, and I feel a little disappointed that I can’t see his abs anymore.

“Sleepy Link, take it from him,” Tetra says with a sly grin.

Sheik rolls away from me across the bed, and Tetra pushes me after him. I catch one end of the scarf and try to pull it free, but Sheik tugs on it at the same time, and I end up falling on top of him, barely catching myself on a forearm before our faces collide. Our noses are less than an inch apart, our breath mingling, and I freeze, shocked by the sudden proximity. His eyes are a beautiful scarlet this close up.

Hastily, I pull away, taking the scarf with me, and Sheik lets it go, its white length revealing the slim smirk on his lips. I look away from him as I stand up, having moved past embarrassment and into mortification.

“You look great,” Tetra says. “Doesn’t he, Sleepy Link?” She elbows me in the ribs.

My eyes dart towards him. “Um, yes. You do. Look great.” Is my face on fire yet?”

“I can’t be sneaky in this outfit!” Sheik insists, throwing his hands into the air as he sits up. “Back me up, here, Tall Link.” His voice trails off as he realizes what he’s said, and a shadow falls over the room.

I clench my fists, staring down at the ground with narrowed eyes. “I’m going to destroy that ghost,” I say in a voice I don’t recognize. “She killed Tall link, so I’m going to destroy her. I’ll tear her apart with my bare hands if I have to. I’ll pry the Master Sword away from her and drive it into her heart even if it kills me. I’ll avenge Tall Link’s death.” I draw one of my daggers and use it to slice my palm open until a line of red wells up. “On my blood, I swear it.”

Sheik holds out a hand, and I pass the knife to him. He makes a matching cut in his own palm. “I’ll help you. Whatever it takes. This I swear on my blood.”

We clasp hands so that our blood mingles, our gazes locked, faces set in determination, all traces of humor and joking gone.

I will avenge you, Tall Link. I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, nothing terrible happened, isn't that amazing? Also I love Tetra. I'm going to have so much fun with her in this story. My bud, tuesdayandtuesday, has been helping me brainstorm her character.


	16. Tetra, AKA the Bane of My Existence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Augh, I'm so sorry this took such a long time! I arrived in England two weeks ago for my year abroad so I've been settling in, and before that, I was stressing about packing and getting my visa and bank account and the eighty million other things I had to do, so I pretty much just wanted to hide under my blankets and do nothing at all. Also, I had another one of those cases where I knew what was going to happen, but couldn't find the right words to get there. But I'm back on track now, so hopefully I'll be able to update a little quicker!

Chapter Fifteen

Tetra, AKA the Bane of My Existence 

“Come over here. I’m going to teach you how to flirt.”

It’s the day after Sheik and I made our blood pact to avenge Tall Link’s death. Tetra is cooking lunch, turning a sand hare on a spit, and Sheik is still in bed, though he’s itching to be up and about. Every time he tries to stand, Tetra glares at him until he settles back down.

“Din, not so loud,” I hiss, hurrying over and flapping my hands for her to be quiet. Tetra just kind of cackles and makes kissy faces at me. “Stop before he sees!” I grab her face to make her stop, but she leans away, so I just end up tackling her to the ground.

“Do you want to get with Sheik or not?”

I stare down at her for a long moment, gaze narrowed. Tetra’s blue eyes glitter as she gives me a grin. “Yes,” I mutter, rolling off her.

“Then take a seat, my young pupil, and listen to the wise words I am about to impart to you.” Tetra sounds overly sage-like as she pierces me with what she must think is a wise and knowing stare, and I have to bite back a snicker, sitting down on one of the rock slates ringing the fire. I cross my legs and stare up at her expectantly, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

“Right, so, the key to any good flirtation is constant eye contact,” she looks me directly in the eye, “and a properly constructed smirk.” She demonstrates, and I have to fight to keep from laughing. “Don’t be afraid to work the hair as well.” She pushes a hand through her thick, asymmetrical bangs as she continues to smirk at me, one tooth poking out to bite her lower lip.

“So what you’re telling me is that I shouldn’t say a word, just stare constantly into Sheik’s eyes like some kind of creeper,” I say a little drily.

Tetra wags her finger. “Oh no, no, no. Talking is very important. It’s essential to the art of flirtation. You’ve got to keep it cool. You’ve got to say enough to keep your prey interested but not so much that you give everything away all at once.”

“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” I say. “I should talk, but I also shouldn’t talk.”

“That’s correct.”

I shift around on my hard rock seat, resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder at Sheik. “But Sheik already knows me pretty well. Does that change things?”

Tetra flaps a hand and rolls her eyes. “We’re not talking about having a conversation. We’re talking about flirting. They’re completely different entities. When you have a conversation, you can be all intimate or whatever,” Tetra sounds a bit disdainful, “but when you’re flirting, you want to be coyer.”

I narrow my eyes at her skeptically. “And how much success have you had with this technique?”

“Excuse me?” Tetra rears back, offended, a hand flying to her heart. “This is a tried and tested scientific method! I’ve gotten one – count them, one – whole girlfriend with this method!”

“Out of how many?” I demand. “One out of one is not a proper sample size.”

“One whole girlfriend?” a voice interrupts, and my spine locks up, frozen over. “As opposed to what? Half a girlfriend? And which half? Top or bottom?”

I can’t decide if I want to spin around or dive into the sand and hide, so I just kind of end up spinning, tripping, and slamming into the sand on my shoulder. When I finally blink the granules away, Tetra is gone, and I’m left staring across the room at Sheik. I’m going to kill that pirate. “Um, how much of that did you hear?”

Sheik looks away from my eyes. “All of it.”

I think I literally turn to cinders and blow away across the floor. I scramble upright, feet klutzy because they’ve detached from my legs. “I have to go,” I say abruptly, and then I run from the room, slipping in the sand. I fling myself out the open archway and around the corner, flattening myself against the wall as my heart thunders and my cheeks blaze. “ _Tetra!_ ” I hiss loudly. “Tetra, where the hell are you?”

The pirate doesn’t answer. She’s probably hiding from me.

I check outside and find her hiding in the shadows beneath a collapsed pillar, and I stalk over, lightweight shoes slipping a little in the sand, the sun beating down on my head. I give Tetra a shove when I reach her. “He heard everything we said! You’re the worst wingman ever!” I keep my voice low so I don’t get a repeat of what happened within Arbiter’s Grounds.

“I am a great wingman,” Tetra contradicts, grinning, eyes glinting. “Now he knows that you like him, and you don’t have to dance around the subject, and you can jump right in.”

“Who’s says I’m ready to jump right in?” I yelp, voice rising before I can stop it.

“You’ll thank me one day.” Tetra saunters past me and claps me on the shoulder before she heads back towards the broken doors into Arbiter’s Grounds.

“I hate you!” I hiss after her, and I get a cackle in return.

I don’t follow Tetra inside. Instead, I take her place in the shadows beneath the toppled pillar. The hot, gritty wind washes across my face, and I find myself wishing that it would scour me away completely. I’m still mortified. I can’t believe Sheik overheard Tetra and me talking about him, and I don’t know how I’ll ever face him again. Maybe I’ll just live out here in the desert until I die.

Eventually, though, the sun forces me back inside. As it travels across the sky, the shadows I’m standing in disappear, and the temperature increases rapidly. I try to stick it out, but I have to concede defeat when I feel my skin begin to stretch and bake. So I slouch back into Arbiter’s Grounds and find a place to sit in the main chamber rather than head back into the side room. I still can’t face Sheik.

Tetra comes out around dinnertime with a bowl and looks around until she spots me. “He’ll think you’re avoiding him,” she says as she passes the bowl over.

“I _am_ avoiding him.”

“You can’t do that forever.”

“This is all your fault.”

Tetra doesn’t deny it. She just smiles and pats me on the head. “Just make sure you come back in before the sun sets.”

I nod, and she traipses back inside, hips swaying in her gauzy pants. I eat the soup and try not to think about my mortification. It doesn’t work. Turns out it’s really hard to clear your head when you’re trying purposefully to do so.

I watch the sun sink, waiting for the last moment before I walk into the warded room. Sheik is still seated on the pallet bed, and in the brief moment that I glance over at him, I see that he’s looking much better, his skin regaining some of its former color. Then I become embarrassed and have to look away. Tetra tinkers away on her ship, a box full of inscrutable tools open by her feet. I walk quickly across the sand to join her. I don’t look at Sheik again. Is he looking at me? Nope, don’t check. Do not check.

“Need some help?” I ask her, keeping my voice low.

“Know anything about boats?”

“No.”

Tetra passes me a wide brush with a short, wooden handle. “Take this and brush all the sand away.”

I take the brush and get to work, sitting down on the deck of the ship, running the bristles over and over the wood. Tetra’s hands clamber deftly over the ropes, checking for frays and wear. “Are you going to go talk to him tonight?” she asks, sneaking a coy smile at me over her shoulder. At least she keeps her voice low.

“I’m never going to talk to him again,” I say. I pause to shake out the brush, and a whole gallon of sand cascades to the ground.

“You’re going to have to if you’re going to save Hyrule together,” Tetra reminds me.

Damnit, she has a point.

“Just not right now,” I concede.

I sleep on the sand boat that night. It’s not nearly as comfortable as the pallet bed, but there’s no way I’m going anywhere near Sheik, let alone sleeping beside him. Tetra settles down next to me, and we press together underneath a blanket, sharing warmth as the temperature plummets during the desert night.

In that in between space of sleeping and waking, I hear something moving around in Arbiter’s Grounds’ main chamber. It sounds dry and scratchy, a moan sifting through the air. I try to open my eyes to look around, but I can’t manage it. They’re stuck. Or maybe I can. I can’t tell. I think I can see the ceiling above me, but it could just be something created by my dreamscape. I try to open my eyes again. I can’t do it. I can’t move my neck, either. It’s ramrod stiff. I can’t feel the rest of my body.

The scratching sound comes again, like bare branches rubbing together. Suddenly, the warded doorway doesn’t matter. It’s just an open arch – no door to speak of to block intruders. The source of the noise is going to walk right through and rip us all to shreds, and there’s nothing I can do about it because I can’t move my body.

I try to jerk myself awake, gathering my dream-self for the effort and clenching the muscles of my already stiffened neck. I snap my body to the side, and I think I’ve done it; my eyes open a little wider, but there’s still darkness and shadows all around me, and I slide back into the half-dream. It sounds like the scraping noises are coming closer.

I try again. I’m beginning to panic. What if I’m stuck like this? Stuck in the limbo between sleeping and waking, unable to move, unable to feel my body. My neck is so tight that it hurts, and I’m having trouble breathing. My chest is tight and restricted, and there’s a blockage in my throat. I jerk myself again, and this time, finally, my eyes snap open, and I gasp in a breath, my whole body shaking, my heart thundering.

Tetra doesn’t stir, so I carefully extricate myself from the blankets, the night air cool against my skin. My knife belt lies on the ground beside the bed, and I buckle it on, the weight comforting against my hips. I creep towards the open archway, drawing one dagger, listening for the faint sounds that are still scraping across the air. I press myself against the wall to the left of the doorway, take a deep breath, and poke my head out far enough to see into the main chamber.

It’s nearly pitch black, just a bit of moonlight streaming in through the holes in the ceiling. I can’t see much – only a dim shadow somewhere across the sand, vaguely humanoid in shape. I bite my lip. I know what Sheik would say: “Don’t do it, Sleepy Link. You’ll get yourself killed.” But I also know that Sheik is a hypocrite and would go out and investigate in an instant.

So I step cautiously out of the warded room. As soon as my foot touches the sand on the other side of the sigils, the scraping sounds cease, and a pair of glowing, red eyes turn to look at me.

Oh shit.

A mass of shadows and red streaks rushes towards me. “ _Oh shit.”_ I say it aloud this time as I stumble back. I trip over my own feet and crash to the sand just as the thing hits the wards. I see the flash of a bestial skull with wide eye sockets – glowing red – and huge fangs protrude out of the large mouth. The vision lasts about a second before dissolving into shadow, and a set of claws rakes over the invisible barrier. It doesn’t make a sound.

The shadow-thing tests the wards again, and when it discovers there’s no weakness to be exploited, it steps back and regards me, just a swirling patch of darkness in the black room, illuminated by two glowing, red orbs. I stare back at it, sliding my dagger back into its sheath. I avoid looking directly into those red eyes. It seems like a hypnosis risk to me.

We stay that way until the sun rises. I don’t wake the others. It doesn’t seem like the shadow can get in, and the thought of facing Sheik – even for something like this – makes me want to step over the wards and give myself to the creature.

* * *

In the morning, the thing is gone, the main chamber of Arbiter’s Grounds silent but for the faint shifting of sand in the wind. I don’t mention the encounter to the others. Those events belong to the night, not the harsh, unforgiving light of day.

Sheik stands while Tetra is preparing breakfast, and at last, he doesn’t stumble or grimace in pain. He walks towards us steadily and takes the bowl Tetra offers him. “We need to head back to the edge of the desert,” he says through a mouthful of food. “We need to know if we can get back to Hyrule.”

“We shot ourselves several hundred feet into the air! How the hell are we supposed to get back?” I demand, forgetting for a moment that I’m avoiding him. When I do remember, I quickly look down at the sand and stuff food into my mouth.

I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. He wants to say something about the other day, but I pray that he doesn’t, close my eyes and pray, nails digging into my palms. “There’s a way,” he says at last. “It’s treacherous but possible.”

That’s just what I love to hear.

Tetra stands up and dusts off her hands. “We should leave now, then, before the midday heat. It’d be best if we could travel at night, but that’s not possible with all the monsters that come out after the moon rises.”

Working side by side, Sheik and I help Tetra push the sand ship out of the warded room. The end of the boat is short, short enough to force Sheik and I close together – I can feel the heat coming off his skin – and I make sure I’m looking anywhere but at him. Tetra smirks as she goes about her business by the front of the boat, and I can tell that she did this on purpose.

Soon enough, I’m going to punch her in the face.

We get the boat outside, the pontoons sliding easily over the sand. The sun has barely risen, and the air is still just a little cool, though I know that it won’t be long before that changes. I shiver slightly as a breeze washes over my skin. Better enjoy it while I have the chance.

Tetra swings aboard using a rope attached to the mast, and then her fingers fly as she secures the loose ends. Sheik and I move to climb onto the ship using the same spot at the same time. My cheeks turn red. We each step back. “You go,” I mutter at the same time as he does. On reflex, we step towards the ship again, bumping into each other. I quickly back off, waving towards the boat and waiting for him to climb up before I follow.

Once again, I notice that Tetra is grinning to herself.

Worst. Wingman. Ever.

“Hold onto something,” Tetra says as the sails fill with wind. I grab hold of a rope just as the ship lurches, and I’m glad for it because I nearly fall off anyways. Sheik reaches out a hand to steady me, fingers grazing my elbow. I jerk away. I don’t mean to. “Sorry. I’m – sorry.” I let go of the rope and stumble away, still getting used to the sway of the boat over the sand, towards Tetra and her tiller.

“I never should have listened to you,” I say. “Now everything is really awkward.”

Tetra takes one hand off the tiller to reach over and ruffle my hair. “I promise it will all work out, and then you’ll owe me about a thousand favors.”

I grumble something under my breath.

To take my mind off it, Tetra shows me how the boat works, the names of the different ropes, and how to pull each one to direct and control the ship. I’ll admit that it all kind of goes in one ear and out the other because all the names are in the Gerudo language which sounds nothing like Hylian. She even lets me steer for a little bit, but I get us off course within a minute so she takes over again.

She gives me a different job to do instead, one that involves me holding onto a rope as I lean over the edge of the boat in the beating sun, all my muscles taunt. I’m not entirely sure what the point of the job is. Tetra mentioned something about the sail and the direction of the wind, but she was pretty vague about it.

Barely five minutes into my new job, there’s a thud, and I look over to see Sheik rebounding off the mast post. He lands on his butt, rubbing at his forehead. Immediately, I drop the rope and rush over falling to my knees beside him. “Are you okay?”

Sheik pulls his hand away from his forehead to make sure there’s no blood. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just got distracted.”

“You’ve already got one head injury,” I say, smirking. “Couldn’t wait to get another?”

Sheik laughs, and when his eyes meet mine, I forget all my words and look away. “Um, I’d better get back to my job.”

I stand and walk towards my rope. Tetra, grinning a big, toothy grin, flashes me a thumbs-up and mouths, “Distracted by you.”

I smile at that, biting my lip, the tips of my ears burning red.

* * *

It takes several hours to reach the edge of the desert, and by that time, the sun is just a little ways away from its peak. The gauzy handkerchief keeps the sand out of my mouth, but I still have to squint my eyes against the glare of the sun and the gritty wind. My skin turns redder and redder the longer we’re out in the sun, but Sheik just becomes more bronzed, and the color perfectly compliments his red and gold clothes.

“Hyrule, ho,” Tetra says as she brings the skimmer to a halt.

What I see as I step down to the sand drives all thoughts of Sheik from my mind.

Hyrule has gone dark.

It’s not cloud cover – it can’t be. It’s too thick and dark for that, virtually seamless, though it still gives the impression of roiling and moving. The darkness ends abruptly at the cliff line that separates the Gerudo Desert from the rest of Hyrule, like a knife had cut right through it. Sheik and I walk towards the edge, an invisible cord in the pit of my stomach dragging me towards it inexorably. I stretch out a hand. The shadowy mark on my palm burns.

Sheik grabs my wrist when my fingertips are inches away from the black wall. “I wouldn’t do that.”

The heat of his hand jerks me back into myself, and I blink, pulling my arm away. “What the hell is it?”

“I guess it’s the power of the corrupted Master Sword.”

“So how do we get back?”

Sheik shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“I bet the Gerudo Archives have answers.” Tetra appears beside us, reaching out a palm until she’s nearly touching the darkness. “Weird. It’s like it’s repelling me.”

I glance over at her, brow furrowed. That’s not what I feel. The tug in my stomach is vague but undeniable. _Touch it,_ something whispers _. Touch it._ I ball my hands into fists and force them to stay at my sides.

There’s nothing to do but head back to Arbiter’s Grounds. It’s hot now – unbearably, scorchingly hot, so hot that at any moment, I think that my skin will begin to flake off or my eyes will dry up and fall out. Sheik and I hide in the sparse shade provided by the sail (Tetra, desert creature that she is, doesn’t need any such protection), but the small space forces me much closer to him than I am currently comfortable with. Every hour, we have to shift position to follow the arc of the sun, the wooden planks hard beneath me. I can’t wait to get off this boat.

We arrive at Arbiter’s Grounds around midday, and after we help Tetra pull the sand skimmer inside, I collapse in the relative shade and comfort of the walls. “I think I’m cooked well enough to eat,” I groan.

“Pass,” Tetra says while Sheik laughs.

“Tell me about the library,” Sheiks says to Tetra. “Where is it? How do we find it?”

“Very far away and not easily.” She grins at the flat stare Sheik gives her, standing and moving to her crates of stolen goods. She spreads an old, crumpled map out in front of us, weighing it down with a few stones. “We’re here, and the library is here.” She points to an X at the edge of the desert then traces her finger up towards the center. “It’s about a five day’s journey.”

Well, fuck.

“Like I said, only the acolytes are allowed inside. No one else knows what it looks like or even exactly where it is. You can see there’s no marking on the map.”

“Then how are we supposed to find it?” I ask.

Tetra’s finger moves to a big marking on the map, labelled in letters I can’t read. “We’ll head to the Gerudo City, try to find a guide or at least some more information. Once we have that, I’ll start formulating a plan to get us inside the library.”

Her eyes gleam when she says the word plan, and I sigh. If her plan is anything like her plan to hitch me up with Sheik, then it will be terrible and probably get us all killed.

Sheik takes the maps from Tetra to study them, no doubt comparing them to the maps in his head to see if he can suss out the location of the library. I watch him work, entranced by the bend of his neck and the way his thick hair falls across his forehead, how the sunlight catches on his red eyes and makes them glow, how his skin glistens just a little bit with sweat. He won’t notice me watching, too engrossed in his work.

Din damnit, how I wish I could talk to him or even look at him without becoming so embarrassed that I can’t function. If only I could be like Tetra, cool and confident enough to have had one whole girlfriend. Even if that’s the only one she’s ever had, it’s still one more than me. (Though in my case, it’s boyfriends, not girlfriends).

There’s not much to do for the rest of the day. Sheik doesn’t look up from his maps, and Tetra gets to work on her ship, leaving me to practice my knife throwing on one of the practice dummies she just randomly has. She says she stole it from the Gerudo training camp. Why she felt the need to steal such a thing, I have no idea. Whatever floats her boat.

Hours later, Sheik throws the maps down in disgust. “I’ve got no clue where it might be.” His fist clenches. “Why in Din’s name would anyone want to _hide_ a library?”

“Oi! Careful with my maps!” Tetra snatches the papers up off the sand, checking them over to make sure they aren’t crumpled.

“Sorry,” Sheik says.

“I don’t understand,” I say, drumming my fingers against my knee after I sit down beside Tetra. “Why wouldn’t the acolytes want to share the knowledge with the rest of the world?”

Sheik turns his head to look at me, and I force myself to meet his gaze, though I’m sure his red eyes are going to burn two holes into me, but that might just be my embarrassment. “Knowledge is power, and as with any power, there are those who seek to abuse it.”

“How do you think the Hylian royal family managed to find a way to banish its enemies to the Twilight Realm at the end of the civil war so many generations ago?” Tetra adds, sounding a little bitter.

I don’t know much about the Hylian civil war, no one does. A faction rose up against the royal family – the exact who has been lost or clouded over through time. Some whisper that it was Gerudo tribe. Even their banishment to the Twilight Realm is hidden in layers of myth and superstition.

A pall settles over the room, and we all look away from each other awkwardly. The way I understand it, the Sheikah tribe broke away from the rest of the Gerudo, and that wound, compounded by the Sheikah’s near extinction, has not healed with time. Hyrule’s relationships with both peoples aren’t exactly stable or pleasant either. It’s amazing that the three of us can sit together in this room and not hate each other.

Well, I do sort of hate Tetra, but that’s for a totally different reason.

“Let me cook tonight,” Sheik says to Tetra, reaching to take the wooden ladle from her as she pulls it out of the pot.

Tetra lifts it away. “No, I’ve got it. You can cook tomorrow, if you want.”

She turns her back on us as she fills the pot with ingredients, and I gather the bowls and spoons, setting them down beside the pot as I wait. She hands a filled bowl to Sheik first, and then I serve myself, lifting it to my nose to sniff at it. Fragrant, unfamiliar spices waft up my nostrils.

After dinner, my eyes and limbs grow heavy, and I lay myself down on the silk sheets piled atop the sand skimmer. I can barely lift my head – don’t want to, even – and the last thing I see is Sheik slowly toppling over onto his own bed.

* * *

I wake up slowly, swimming up out of the darkness into a patchy grayness and a land of cool shadows. A torch flickers beside me, lighting up the sandy floor, and the walls are marred by scratch marks. I groan as I sit up. Then I look around, stomach sinking.

This is not the warded room.

Sheik lies beside me, gradually waking up, on a bed of sand that half buries him, one side of his face illuminated by the torch. Ash and burn marks streak the walls around us, and the scratches look more like deep claw marks upon closer inspection. The low roof makes the whole room feel claustrophobic, a barred door across from us the only visible way out.

Sheik jerks upright, head snapping left and right to take in the new surroundings. “Where the hell are we?” I think he already knows the answer; he just doesn’t want to say it aloud.

A piece of paper sits between us, folded neatly in half. I reach out and pick it up, reading it aloud after I unfold it.

_“I’ll let you back up once you’ve talked out your feelings._

_Have fun kids._

_Love,_

_Tetra.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is SO hard to capture what sleep paralysis feels like in writing. I've tried a couple times, but the terror and the feeling of it never comes out quite right. Anyways, I love Tetra and her antics - I hope you do to. The next chapter will be Tetra, AKA the Worst Wingman Ever. I'm pretty excited. 
> 
> I love hearing from my readers, so please feel free to leave your thoughts!


	17. Tetra: AKA, the Worst Wingman Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Did you miss me? ;)

 

Sheik stands up, drawing his knives, keen eyes sweeping the sand for any shift that might signify an attack. “I don’t understand. She said the lower reaches of Arbiter’s Grounds were sealed off. How in Din’s name did she get us down here?”

“Does it really matter?” I stay seated, checking around me. I have both my daggers and the claw shot hanging from my belt. “How ever she did it, we’re still stuck down here.”

Until we talk. About our feelings. Gulp.

“Tetra!” Sheik shouts at the ceiling, even shaking his fist at it. “This isn’t funny! Let us out!”

I reach out and grab his sleeve to tug on it a little. “Maybe you should keep your voice down. And come on, you know Tetra; once she’s got an idea in her head, she’s not going to let it go until she’s seen it through. We’re stuck down here.”

Sheik picks up the letter. “Until we’ve talked about our feelings.”

I turn red.

Luckily, I’m saved by the tiny skeleton monster that chooses this moment to claw its way out of the sand and wave its tiny, pointed spear in the air. Its jaw clicks as it looks around, dry vertebrae scratching against each other, then its empty eye sockets latch onto us.

“Get up.” Sheik grabs my shoulder, his fingers hot against my skin, and my heart jumps as he pulls me to my feet.

“Why? It’s tiny and kind of cute.”

Another little skeleton digs itself free of the sand, and as soon as its ribcage is in sight, the first creature slams its spear through two ribs and rips it out of the sand and into the air. It slams its victim down onto the stone so hard that all its bones shatter. My eyes widen.

“Oh. Maybe not so cute.”

The sand around us boils and churns, and then a couple dozen of the skeletons erupt into the open air. Sheik seizes my hand. “We need to get the hell out of here before they multiply enough to overwhelm us.”

“How?” I ask. “The only door out is barred.”

“There will be a switch or a trigger somewhere. We just need to find it before we get…poked to death.”

One of the tiny skeletons gets a little too close, so Sheik sends it flying with a swift kick. It bowls through ten of its comrades before shattering against the tan stone wall. This, of course, incenses the rest of the creatures, and they charge at us.

“Good going,” I mutter.

“I don’t need your sass right now, Sleepy Link,” Sheik says, leg lashing out at another skeleton. As soon as it’s gone, two more take its place. The damn things are too short to be attacked properly with our knives, and when they get close enough, they start jabbing at our calves with their spears, forcing us to dance awkwardly to avoid them.

I stomp on the head of the nearest skeleton, crushing it to the sand with the satisfying crunch of bone, but one of its friends darts forward before I start to move again and stabs its spear through the fleshy part of my calf. I shriek, leg giving way, dagger falling to cave in the beast’s skull.

“Sleepy Link!” Sheik yells.

He rips the claw shot from my belt and picks me up, arm wrapped around my waist. He points the device towards the barred door and pulls the trigger. The chain whistles through the air, the hooks clench around the bars, and we’re yanked off our feet. Pain washes up from my leg to my head as the spear twists, and I nearly black out, missing the part where Sheik releases the hooks, and we land awkwardly on the ground.

“I think I’m bleeding,” I mumble.

“No shit. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“No, I’m pretty sure my leg will need to be amputated.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

One of the stones of the wall is a slightly different color, so Sheik pushes it with his palm. There’s a click, then the bars slide away from the door. Sheik shoves it open and tumbles through just before the tiny skeletons reach us, dropping me so he can slam it shut again. I hear several dozen spear tips clatter against the stone.

I slide down a short, sandy slope, coming to rest beside a stone slab, calf screaming. I struggle to sit up. “Get up on the stone,” Sheik says as he jumps away from the door and down the shallow dune. “It’ll probably be safer there.”

I use my elbows to pull myself up off the sand. It’s comforting to have something completely solid beneath my back. I gather my courage and look down at my leg, and the sight of it sends a fresh wave of pain over me. The spearhead has gone all the way through my calf, one half of the shaft stained with my blood, bits of flesh clinging to the jagged point.

My breathing spikes, my vision swimming. “I’m going to die.”

“No, you’re not. You’ll be fine,” Sheik says, rolling his eyes. “’Tis but a flesh wound.”

“That’s a lot of blood.” There’s a pool of it under my leg.

“Don’t be a baby.” Sheik kneels down beside me, and I can tell he’s about to do something I won’t like.

“Don’t be a baby?” I splutter. “I have a _spear_ through my _leg_!”

Sheik places one hand just above the knee to hold my leg in place and wraps his fingers around the bloody end of the shaft, just below the head. “It’s just a little one. Okay, I’m going to count to three.”

I brace my hands against the stone behind me. “Don’t you dare.”

“One.” I swear there’s a grin on his face.

“Sheik, I swear to Din!”

“Two.”

He yanks the spear out of my leg before I can say anything else, so instead, I just scream, and the sound echoes around and around the chamber we’re in. “What the fuck? That wasn’t three!”

“It’s better to do it on two.” Sheik rips the bottom half of his pant leg off and wraps it around my wound, tying it in place. “If I still had my scarf, I could make a much better bandage.”

I snort with laughter. “Well, you would be dead from heatstroke, so…”

“How do you feel?” Sheik asks, looking at me with wide, concerned eyes that make me want to melt into the stone just a little bit.

“Like I’ve been speared through the leg.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

“Also, I feel like I hate you.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Sheik claps me on the shoulder and stands to examine our surroundings. We left our torch in the other chamber, but light from an unknown source comes through cracks in the ceiling, just enough to see by. The chamber is circular and, of course, has no doors or windows other than the one we came through. The stone platform I sit on is in the center of the room, and the sand slopes up from it to the walls.

“Tetra, this isn’t funny any more!” Sheik shouts at the ceiling. “Sleepy Link is hurt!”

“I doubt she can hear,” I groan, shifting my leg away from the pool of the blood. Even that small motion hurts. The makeshift bandage is already mostly soaked.

“Then how is she supposed to know when we’ve talked about our feelings?” he wonders. One tooth comes out to bite his lip. “Maybe we should do that?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

Sheik sits down across from me. “What could it hurt? I’ll go first.”

Oh no. Not this. Please, Din, don’t let this be happening right now. Please strike me down or let me bleed out. I can’t handle this.

“I overheard you talking to Tetra,” Sheik begins, and I bury my face in my hands. “And, well…”

That’s when his blazing hot fingers wrap around my wrists and pull my hands away from my face. That’s when his own face is right in front of mine, not even an inch away. That’s when his red eyes bore into mine. That’s when I forget how to breathe.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, but eventually, my body betrays my brain, and my head tips forward the tiniest bit. Sheik must take that as a sign because he leans in the rest of the way, and then his lips touch mine.

And it’s like there is no me anymore. There is only the blaze of the sun and the heat of the volcano and his fingers trailing fire down my skin. One of his hands cups the back of my neck, and my hand is on his hard chest, the other holding me up. I can feel his heartbeat. It’s synced with mine.

Sheik pushes me down until I’m lying on my back, and my hands tangle in his hair. His thick, soft hair. There’s enough of it to lose one’s fingers in. His chest presses against mine – hot as a wildfire raging across an open plain – and I think our bodies have been seared into one.

Eventually, it breaks, and we come apart, Sheik lifting his chest of mine and propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes lock on mine, red like blood pumping from the heart, red like the sun bursting in the east. “Does that count as talking?” I gasp. It comes out before I realize it, and I’m sure it breaks the mood. I hate myself just a little bit.

But Sheik laughs. “I should think so.”

I don’t want him to, but he rolls off me, hands folded behind his head as he lies on his back and looks up at the ceiling. “So…what now?” I ask.

“Well, honestly, I’m betting that Tetra didn’t think things all the way through when she locked us down here, so we’re probably going to have to find our own way out.”

“That figures,” I groan as I sit up.

“At least we’re together.” When I look over at him, Sheik is grinning up at me shamelessly, a smile that only grows when he sees how red my face turns. “But in all seriousness, I’m actually sort of glad Tetra threw us down here together, as crazy as that sounds. I think both of us would’ve danced around the issue until the day we died.”

I cannot argue with that.

Sheik’s grin takes on a mischievous tint. “Now, if I want, I can just lean over, and…” He demonstrates, sitting up, leaning forward and kissing me on the lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Heat blooms in my stomach. Has he liked me as long as I’ve liked him? I bite my lip. “I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time, too.” The words mostly come out as a squeak.

Sheik winks. “We should get moving. Can you stand?”

“No.”

Sheik hops up, grabs my hands, and pulls me to my feet, well, foot. I hop around awkwardly, clinging to him for support. “Tetra!” Sheik shouts in a last ditch effort.

Nothing.

“We can’t go back the way we came,” I say slowly, mulling over the situation. Sand filled room. Cracked roof. One door, skeleton demons on the other side. Not much to go on.

“Maybe there’s a trap door. This place should be riddled with them,” Sheik says. He wraps one arm under my armpit to help support my weight, and we stagger off the stone into the sand. I can feel droplets of blood running down my leg.

“How are we supposed to find a trap door through all this sand?” I wonder, praying at the same time that the sand isn’t about to start shifting around us to birth a series of monstrosities hell-bent on tearing us to bloody pieces.

“Look for any kind of irregularities,” Sheik says, though I’m a bit more concerned with the feeling of his skin on mine than listening to his words. You’d think the heat would feel stifling in the overwhelming warmth of the desert, but it actually feels nice.

That is, of course, when I stub the big toe of my non-injured leg on something hard and metal.

I yell in pain, that leg leaping reflexively into the air so that all my weight comes down on my injured calf which then collapses, spilling me to the ground. I drag Sheik down with me, and he lands on top. Sand fills my mouth. Hacking and coughing, I spit it out, though a film remains across my tongue and cheeks.

“What the hell?” I groan, shoving Sheik off as I sit up.

Already, my toe and the top of my foot – the slipper torn – have turned an impressive shade of purple and blue and are swelling up. I hope to Din nothing is broken. “I hate this desert.”

Sheik crawls over to the hidden demon object that’s out to get me and brushes the sand away with his hands, revealing a metal disc about two feet in a diameter, all but a few inches of it stuck into the ground.

“What is it?” I ask.

Sheik tries to find a grove to dig his fingers into a pull it up. “I think it’s a sand spinner.”

“I call it.”

“What?” Sheik glances over at me, an eyebrow raised. “You can’t call it.”

“I found it, probably broke my foot on it,” I say with a grin. “So I call it.”

“You already have the claw shot,” Sheik points out, hands curling possessively around the edges of the sand spinner.

I eye him, tapping my fingers against my chin. “Alright. If you can get it out, you can have it.”

“Deal.” With a grunt, Sheik digs his fingers in and pulls the whole thing free. A cone comes out of the end that was hidden, the sides curving until they come to a three-sided point. Grey squares ring the main disc so that it looks like an odd, blocky sun, equally blocky and indecipherable symbols covering the top of the device.

“Yes!” Sheik cheers, and then something clicks beneath the sand. Immediately, the mirth drops off his face, and his eyes widen. I just shake my head at him, not surprised in the bit. This is just so typical of our luck.

The floor and the sand it’s covered in falls away slowly, beginning with the stone platform, which begins to descend, and spiraling outwards. Sheik and I scramble away on our butts, Sheik’s arm curled around one of mine to help me along. My blood leaves a trail of droplets on the ground.

The metal spinner drops into the hole and disappears from sight. I wait to hear it hit the bottom, but the thud never comes, and I gulp. Before long, we’re trapped against the wall by the ever shrinking ring of sand, and I do my best to avoid looking in the gaping maw of a hole that the floor has become. I don’t succeed. There’s no end to it. The walls have nothing for my claw shot to hold onto, and the door is yards away, not enough time to reach it before the hole swallows us, even if the other side weren’t jam packed with nasty skeletons.

“I’ve got an idea,” Sheik says, and before I can ask what it is, he wraps my arms and legs around his back and seizes my claw shot. Then, with a cackle that chills me down to my very soul, he launches us out of the sand and off the edge of the ever-expanding hole. Why do I like this man again?

I cling to Sheik’s back with all my might, and he sticks out the arm holding the claw shot as we fall, pointing it at the sand spinner. The force of the hook leaving the device pushes us back several inches, but then the claws latch onto the edge of the spinner, and we’re yanked forward, through the curtains of sand falling from above, and Sheik’s feet slam into the top of the spinner which is tilted towards us. Our momentum keeps us moving forward, and Sheik shifts so he’s crouched on top of the circular device, the cone aimed downwards. As we draw closer to the curved wall, I can see that there are odd lines of metal teeth running through the otherwise smooth stone, though the blocky teeth face inwards _into_ the rock rather than pointing out.

“Sheik, we’re going to hit the wall!” I yelp, clutching him tighter because that hard stone wall is getting closer, and it’s getting closer _fast_.

But before he can answer, we collide with the wall, but instead of going splat, the side of the sand spinner clicks into the line of teeth, and Sheik checks our forward momentum by throwing out his hand and pushing off the stone for a brief moment. But we’re still moving, zooming around the circular hole, following the line of metal teeth down, down, down, thankfully at a more controlled speed this time. There’s a thud as the walls hit their limit and finally stop expanding. Sand continues to rain down on our heads.

I let out a sigh of relief and slump against Sheik’s back. “That was a terrible idea,” I yell in his ear. The wind is still very loud as we keep on descending.

“No worse than any of yours!” Sheik shouts back.

We travel down the walls for about another ten minutes, though it’s impossible to tell how deep we are since I don’t know the angle of the metal toothed loop. It’s kind of boring, actually. The only good part is that I get to press up _really_ close to Sheik. He’s very warm, and even though he has very hard back muscles, he’s quite comfortable.

Before long, the light from the giant hole up above is negligible, and we’re surrounded by darkness. We run out of wall suddenly, unable to see what’s going on around us, and the spinner twirls away across the sand until it runs out of momentum and sets itself down.

Sheik steps off the sand spinner, his feet sinking into the dunes covering the floor of this new room. “Can I put you down now?” he asks.

“I still have a hole in my leg,” I point out.

Sheik makes me sit down on the sand spinner, legs stretched out, me flinching as my injured calf is jostled. “So where are we?” I wonder. The dim light from above barely illuminates a small circle around us. Sheik moves a few paces away from me, and his foot sinks into the sand to thud against something solid. I cringe, expecting some kind of trap to be triggered, but nothing happens as he crouches down and uses his hands to brush more of the sand away.

“I think it’s another slot for the spinner,” he says, handing me back the claw shot.

“No.” I settle myself down more firmly on the circular device and wrap my hands over the edges as if that will somehow stop Sheik from moving it. “That will probably trigger another nasty trap or awaken an ancient evil or something.”

“Or it could open a door and let us out of here. You _do_ want to get out of here, right?”

“Of course I want to get out of here!” I yell.

“Then let’s put the sand spinner in the hole.” Sheik turns and grins at me.

I stare at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. “Search the rest of the chamber first,” I order finally. It appears that I can be prudent at times.

Sheik does as I say, scuffing through the sand in the dark and feeling up the walls. Yes, I am very jealous of those walls. He comes back to me a few minutes later and shakes his head, spreading out his hands. “Nothing,” he says. “I could have missed in the dark, but I think this trigger is our only shot.”

“Fine,” I say. I still think this is a bad idea. I carefully heft myself off the spinner and lower myself to the sand, wincing all the way. Sheik picks up the device as if it weighs nothing, looking surprised as he does so, and carries it over to the slot. I grip a dagger in one hand and the claw shot in the other as he crouches down and slides the spinner into the sand. It fits into the slot with a click that echoes ominously around the chamber.

Sheik and I wait, and after a long moment, something deep within the ground _roars_. The sound shakes the sand around us and makes the walls tremble, my head buzzing with the low frequency. Sheik quickly pries the sand spinner back up and stumbles over to me, but it’s too late. A massive, skeletal hand – easily as big as a house and tipped with long claws – erupts from the sand and slams back down, spraying us with grit. All along the circular walls, torches burst to life, bathing everything in an orange glow.

“What did you say about awaking an ancient evil?” Sheik asks.

“I told you so!” I yell, feeling inordinately pleased with myself.

“Oh shut up and gloat later.” Sheik helps me scramble upright, and we stumble away from the churning sand.

A second house-sized hand breaks free, throwing sand and broken bones everywhere. It slams down beside its twin, and then both of them work to draw a mind-bogglingly large skull from the ground. It’s animalistic, four giant ram’s horns curling off it, long teeth sprouting from its mouth. Its eyes glow red. But it doesn’t stop there. Bony shoulders unhunch, and sand drains away from a ribcage large enough to hold Hyrule Castle inside with room to spare. The beast stands in the sand on a base of thick vertebrae, but the lower half of its body doesn’t appear.

“Stallord,” Sheik breathes, eyes wide as he looks over his shoulder at it.

The creature roars, tipping its head back and clawing at the air with its talons. At its call, an army of those obnoxious little skeleton creatures rise from the sand. The Stallord curls one massive fist to point a claw at Sheik and me, and the monsters turn their attention to us, spears raised.

Sheik drops the sand spinner and sets me on top of it, giving me a shove to send me flying off. “What are you doing?” I yell, flailing my arms for balance.

Sheik strikes out with both his daggers, knocking the heads off two skeletons. “You’ll be more mobile!”

Once I get over my initial shock, the spinner is easy to balance on, moving smoothly across the sand. There are two footprints on top of the metal, and when I place my sandy slippers in them, some kind of force holds them in place. I shift my weight, and the device turns gracefully, every part of it spinning while the center plate I stand on remains orientated forward. I honestly have to idea how it works, but it’s very cool.

The skeleton creatures scuttle after me, but the spinner moves too quickly and too nimbly. I glance over my shoulder to check on Sheik and see that he’s battling a whole host of enemies, but before I can turn to aid him, a jet of black fire blasts towards me, and I barely manage to throw my weight to the side in time to skid out of the way. The dark flames give off no heat, but they burn nonetheless as they pass my face. They seem to burn the soul, not the body, and the hand where I touched the corrupted Master Sword blazes with pain, telling me to reach out and touch the darkness. My wounded calf screams at me, too, but I force myself to ignore it, locking my leg in place to keep it from collapsing.

The Stallord roars and snaps its jaws shut, cutting off the jet of fire. A skeleton army, giant claws and teeth, _and_ soul-burning flames? Not fair.

A trio of skeletons lunge at me, but I twist away. The slope of the sandy floor catches me and the spinner, pulling me down towards the Stallord’s thick vertebra, gathering more and more speed. The Stallord’s attention is currently on Sheik, so I grit my teeth and let the momentum carry me forward, bending my knees. The vertebra grows closer and closer. The wind whistles through my hair, making my silk bandana and pants flap around me, and I grip my knives tighter, uncertain what I’m going to do.

The vertebra is right in front of me, and I gather myself and jump into the air. The spinner comes with me since my feet are still locked in place, gaining speed and power. The buzzing edge collides with the vertebra and ricochets off as a crack shatters the air, and the Stallord bellows.

The world twirls around me until I dig my feet in, and the sand spinner slows back down to a manageable speed. I curve up out of the shallow dip, weaving around tiny skeletons and their spears. The Stallord continues to roar, swiping its claws through the air and spewing black fire at the ceiling, and when I look back, deep, jagged cracks run through the lowest vertebra.

I grin to myself and begin to turn the spinner around, moving in a wide loop. Sheik is surrounded by shattered skeletons, and I ram one that’s trying to sneak up on him, and the thing breaks apart, but I also bounce off in the other direction.

I right the spinner and line myself up for a second attack, aimed directly at the Stallord. Tiny skeletons race at me, but I weave out of the way or knock them down with my dagger, even slinging a few into the air with the claw shot. The Stallord blasts its dark fire at me, but I duck, crouched low on the spinner, my calf screaming in protest. The force of its passing ruffles my hair, and again, there’s that desire to stick my hand up into it. I clench my dagger a little tighter.

The spinner slams into the already cracked vertebra and bounces off, and the entire bone shatters, dropping the Stallord lower to the ground as it bellows its rage and more black flames across the chamber. I zoom away, skirting around skeletons to the outer wall.

I study the Stallord. Two vertebrae left and at least two hits each to break. That’s going to take too long. A never-ending number of spear-carrying skeletons boil up out of the sand every second, and the Stallord’s black fire blasts grow more and more frequent. “Sheik?” I yell as I race by him, arm outstretched, and Sheik grabs my hand, leaping over the skeletons attacking him to land on the spinner behind me. The impact jars my balance, but I keep us steady and moving towards the wall. Without me having to do anything, the spinner locks into the line of metal teeth in the wall, and we start to climb.

Higher and higher we go as the Stallord spits dark fire at us, cracking the stone just behind us. Sheik’s arms are wrapped around my waist, holding on tight, and soon we’re just higher than the top of the Stallord’s head. “Jump!” I yell, and Sheik flings himself off the spinner.

He lands right on top of the creature’s skull, using his momentum to slam both his daggers in deep, and the Stallord flails, batting at him with its claws. Sheik ducks low, clinging to his knife hilts to keep from falling off. With a jerk of my hips, I detach the spinner from the wall and soar through the air, the magic of the device keeping me aloft longer than should be possible. I will my feet free from the invisible bonds holding them in place, and the pointed bottom of the spinner shears through the Stallord’s skull. I land beside Sheik.

“That almost hit me,” he says.

“Sorry.”

The hole made by the spinner is big enough for us to drop through, so we do so, and we find a large gemstone floating in the brain cavity, radiating shadows. Sheik raises his daggers to strike at it, but before he can, I reach out, and I grasp it with the palm that has the dark patch on it.

_Screams. Storms. The crack of lightning. The roar of thunder. Soaring above a land wrapped in night. A castle shattered to pieces. Falling. Plummeting. Ground covered in blackened vines. A system of them beneath the ground. All pulsing. All black. Stretching across the land from an indeterminable place. Rage. Deep. Powerful. Hot. Rage and…and loss._

My back strikes something hard, and I crumple, cracking my head against the same hard surface. My palm burns. Sheik’s face is right in front of mine, looking angry yet also concerned. “What the hell, Sleepy?” he yells.

“What happened?” I rub at the back of my head.

“Why would you touch the creepy, glowing crystal?”

My brow furrows. I don’t remember doing that. “I…”

The Stallord’s mouth cracks open to our left, and long, skeletal claws reach inside, probing for us, searching. Sheik pulls me out of the way, and then he dodges between two fingers to drive both of his daggers through either side of the gem. It shatters like glass, releasing a wave of shadow that blasts the Stallord’s skull apart and throws us into the air.

A second later, I crash into the sand, burrowing down several feet, the grains cascading over my head and into my mouth. Spitting and choking, I claw my way free and look around. Shattered bones litter the sand, some of them smoking slightly, and there’s a giant crater where the Stallord used to be. Sheik sits, half buried, directly opposite me, blinking as he shakes his head, and a waterfall of sand pours off him.

I dig myself free, and when I set my hand down in front of me, I see that the dark shadow that marks my palm climbs up my last two fingers. My hand tingles. That can’t be good.

Staggering upright, I limp across the sand to reclaim the spinner and join Sheik, hiding my darkened hand behind my back. There’s a crystal shard lying by the spinner, drained of shadow, now perfectly clear, and I pick it up and stick it in my pocket on a whim. “Alright? Sheik asks, and I nod. “We make a good team.”

That makes me blush.

We search the cavern by the light of the torches mounted around the walls but find no way out, so we mount up on the spinner again and climb up the line of metal teeth. “I’m driving this time,” Sheik says. “You’ve had you’re turn.”

I mumble an insult but acquiesce.

So we climb and climb and climb. My adrenaline drains away and leaves me exhausted and aching, my wounded calf screaming so badly that I can’t put any weight on it. My head throbs in time with my palm, and I look down at it behind Sheik’s back. Most of my palm and two fingers are black as night, even the fingernails. I clench my fist and try not to think about it.

The color of the walls changes when we reach the original chamber where we found the spinner, going from dark to light, and the metal teeth continue to climb, so we keep going, too. A few minutes of cruising later, the metal teeth take us into an odd side tunnel then run out, forcing Sheik and I to hop off the spinner, one of Sheik’s arms around me to help keep me up right as he holds the spinner in one hand. We start walking, too tired to talk, until we come to a ladder leading up to a trap door.

Sheik goes up first, shoving the wooden hatch open, and sand and sun spill down into the tunnel. “Din, is that what I think it is?” I say.

Sheik grins over his shoulder at me. “A way out.”

The thought of being free of this horrible place gives me a jolt of energy, and I climb up the ladder behind Sheik eagerly. It deposits us in the open desert, maybe two hundred yards from the ruins of Arbiter’s Grounds, but the sand spinner makes short work of that distance.

“Tetra!” Sheik bellows as we step through the main double doors.

Tetra pokes her head out of the warded room, and her face lights up when she sees us. “Sheik! Sleepy Link! Did you talk about your feelings?” She wiggles her eyebrows at us.

“Sleepy Link is injured because of you,” Sheik snarls as he stalks towards her, dragging me after. “And we both almost died more than once. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Okay, so I may have not thought this plan out all the way, but hey, it worked, right? You guys finally talked to each other!” Tetra grins and flashes us two thumbs up.

Sheik shakes his head, wanting to push past, but he can’t without letting go of me, so he just stands there, jaw clenched in a way that says he wants to punch something and he needs to move away or else that something will be Tetra, and I glare at Tetra. “You’re the worst wingman ever.”

Tetra laughs. “But you kissed, didn’t you?” She sees in both our faces that we did, and she grins victoriously. “You’re welcome.”

And she saunters away, leaving the two of us staring after her, equally baffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About 75k of slow burn, but our kiddos finally did it, eh?


	18. Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a long time since I've written a chapter this short. That's mildly embarrassing. Traveling chapters like this are always difficult to me. Also sorry that it's been so long since I've updated. You've probably all given up on this story by now... But I promise I've got some good stuff planned for the next couple of chapters! I'll give you a hint - it involves a very convoluted heist!

When I wake up in the morning, my wounded leg is a disconcerting green-purple color. I don’t notice right away, too distracted by the way Sheik’s blazing side is pressed against mine. My vision is a little blurry, colors dancing around the light, but I’m not terribly concerned by this fact.

“Something smells weird,” Sheik says, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at me.

“Rude,” I mutter. My voice sounds very far away.

Sheik peers deeper into my face. “Sleepy, your pupils are really dilated. Are you feeling alright?”

“ _Mhm_.” I murmur. I do feel sort of floaty. It’s nice. The colors on the lights are pretty.

He pulls the silk blankets off us, and I finally notice a bit of a sour scent. It makes my nose crinkle. The bandage around my wounded leg is no longer white but a crusty green color. “Well, that doesn’t look good,” I say. I can’t tell if the little, red, squirmy things are real or just my imagination.

Sheik unwraps the bandage. The edges of my wound are puckered and discolored, the green-purple color spreading away on all sides. The hole weeps a foul smelling pus. Sheik’s feather light fingers brush the swollen flesh, and pain barrels through me, the colors around the patches of light flashing black and screaming at me.

Or maybe I screamed. I don’t really know.

“Tetra!” Sheik bellows.

Tetra bolts upright and tumbles off her ship in a tangle of blankets. She spits sand from her mouth as she sits up. “What the fuck, man? I’m right here?”

“Look at Sleepy’s leg.”

She rolls free of her blankets and hurries over, blanching as soon as she sees my leg, a hand flying to her mouth. “That’s gnarly.”

“What’s causing it?” Sheik demands. I pat his face and try to get him to turn it back towards me because his eyes are glittering like gemstones, but he takes my hand and squeezes it like he thinks that’s all I want. I fold my lips down into a pout.

“He was stabbed by an Arbiter’s Grounds skeleton?” Tetra asks.

Sheik nods. “Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to play fucked up matchmaker!”

I wriggle my fingers in his. “Not her fault.”

“Those spears are weapons of the dead. They’re of the Underworld. They’re poison to the living.”

“How do we fix it?”

Tetra scratches her head, mussing up her blonde hair which she wears unbound at the moment, and it cascades in messy curls down to her waist. Purple and blue squigglies dance between the strands. I smile at her. She doesn’t notice. “Purple potion would probably be strong enough, but I don’t have any. It’s hard to come by out here. The Gerudo horde it like the most precious substance in the world.”

“How long does he have?”

“Three days. Maybe.”

“Is that enough time to get to the Gerudo city?”

“Just barely.”

“Then why are we still sitting around here?”

Sheik’s words launch the two into motion, leaving me lying in bed, still mildly befuddled. I feel fine, really. The pain from Sheik’s touch has faded, and I’m floating again, mesmerized by the colors dancing in the sunlight.

When they’re ready, they bundle me up into a blanket hammock and trundle me over to the sand skimmer. This part hurts. It hurts a lot. Everything pulses black and grey and red. I think I lose consciousness for a bit because the next thing I know, we’re skimming along the sand, and I’m lying under an umbrella with Sheik’s worried face looming over me. Ah good. There are those firestone eyes again. That’s good.

“Alright?” Sheik asks.

“Did you know you’re very pretty?” I mumble.

“He’s really out of it,” Sheik says to Tetra, looking over his shoulder at her so I can no longer see his eyes. Sad. Very sad.

 _You’re really out of it._ I try to say. _Out of this world._

The words don’t come out. My tongue is suddenly very dry and very large. I smack my lips. It doesn’t do anything.

“We should get going.” Sheik stands and moves out of my line of sight, which is really devastating, but my head is too heavy to turn and follow him.

The sand skimmer lurches into motion, and the world around me glitches, seeming to pause for a moment before lurching forward to catch up with the present moment. I blink, and the sun beats down on my head. I blink again, and it’s dark. The stars overhead dance, some of them trailing skirts, others done up in stiff-necked tunics, others still wearing a combination of the two.

They seem so happy up there, twirling around each other in twos or threes, changing colors as they track across the sky. I lift my arm to point, but it glows in the darkness, a pallid, green light. No one else seems to notice.

The movement of the sand skimmer lulls me to sleep at some point, though the line between wakefulness and unconsciousness is blurred to me. Tall Link’s face haunts my dreams, all memories, though a small part in the back of my mind thinks it doesn’t recognize all the images.

Tall Link helps my father at the ranch, shirtless, bent over a bale of hay as he heaves it into a trough with a pitchfork.

Tall Link sits on a porch swing with Ilia, a soft smile on his face as she tips her head back and laughs.

Tall Link stands atop a rock with a glowing sword held aloft as a black horde boils below, barely held at bay by the white light. He swings the blade. Light fills the world.

Tall Link alone in a cave, slumped against the stone, blood weeping from his stomach, staining his green tunic, the Master Sword discarded beside him, also stained with blood.

Tall Link hands me a plate piled high with bread and fruit, reaching up to where I hide in a tall tree, the other kids in Ordon Village snickering and smirking from the lawn below. We’re five. It’s Artsy Link’s birthday party. I was only invited because his mom made him.

There are wedding bells in a small village and a royal procession on a wide open street and a funeral march in a shattered city.

Each scene dissolves into bubbles of color before the recollect into something else, and a hum builds in my head. I’m looking down on myself, floating above the sand skimmer, the stars reaching out their hands to me. Tall Link sits in my place, looking up at me, and he waves when he sees me watching. A deep, overwhelming sadness floods me, and the landscape turns blue, the color washing over the sand from the north.

The wrong guy died in the Water Temple.

I look away from him before the guilt can swallow me whole. A shadow floats off my hand, enveloping the palm that touched the corrupted Master Sword, deep and inky and burning coldly. A flimsy string trails away from it and over the desert, blown apart by the wind but continually putting itself back together again.

There’s a tug deep within my stomach and a burning pain in my hand, and then I’m yanked away from the sand skimmer, following the black line. Within seconds, I’m out of the desert and over Hyrule, though a storm rages all around me, the wind and rain obscuring the ground from view. Somehow, I still know I’m over Hyrule.

My vision fuzzes. Colored dots dance around me. even though I don’t currently have a corporeal body, I’m still going to vomit. I’m so cold, losing feeling in my legs. I glance behind me – or maybe not because I seem to be able to see in all directions at the same time – and a golden line leads back the way I came (I think). It flickers and winks, under constant attack from the storm.

I can’t control my flight, though I want desperately to fly below the storm and check on Hyrule, on my family, on Princess Zelda. I think…I think the Master Sword is right below me.

A cat with purple and blue fur peers out of the clouds and winks at me.

I feel as if I’m fading – maybe I never really existed. That golden string behind me has bled away to nearly nothing. I try to remember something about myself; my name – maybe it began with L? – my age, my life beyond the storm. But it’s all just bits. The clearest image is that of a man with blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a green hat nestled in golden hair. He might be me. He might not be. I’m not sure it really matters.

A pain grows within me, quickly becoming all consuming until the storm disappears, the rain disappears, the wind disappears, and I disappear.

**Author's Note:**

> Most Zelda fics are written in past tense, 3rd person, so I decided to try something new and use present tense 1st person. I hope you readers like reading something a little bit different. Updates are probably going to be a bit slow, because I really want to try to take my time writing and editing the chapters so that they're the best they can be.


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